


Why Not Me?

by Chummy



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Confessions, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, akira doesnt cheat tho lol fuck no, akira has two hands, i worked on this for a month lol hey, i write fluff its insane, ryuji dealing with the fact that his boyfriend has a crush on akechi, theyre all idiots, this is my goro and ryuji agenda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:15:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23767552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chummy/pseuds/Chummy
Summary: “Can’t wait for you to leave me for a famous detective pretty boy,” Akira sighs exaggeratedly and Ryuji wants to throttle him.“Please shut the fuck up, I’m not gonna do that.”“Oh so you admit you think he’s pretty.”“I never said that!” Ryuji yells and Akira cracks up.----Akira Kurusu and Goro Akechi are tied by fate. Akira Kurusu and Ryuji Sakamoto are in love. It binds them all.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Akechi Goro/Sakamoto Ryuji, Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 19
Kudos: 186





	Why Not Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative title: Porque no los dos?
> 
> I want that twink obliterated - Ryuji Sakamoto about Goro Akechi

Akira Kurusu is  _ beautiful _ .

Striking and pretty and so  _ blatantly  _ out of place. 

Ryuji’s first thought when looking at him,  _ really _ looking at him was a very competent  _ what the fuck.  _

Because Akira Kurusu is gorgeous and Ryuji isn’t blind. 

He sticks out in the crowd of Shujin students, maybe because the entire student body is actively avoiding him like the plague, or maybe because Akira is so damn attractive the other faces in the crowd fade away. Ryuji thinks it’s a bit of both. 

The girls of his class whisper about the new delinquent, about how intimidating he seems, along with how soft his hair looks.  _ The duality of man, _ he thinks. The boys of his class try to downplay Akira’s delinquent status in some dumb masculine power play that Ryuji really has no time for.

He comes to terms with his crush on Akira early on. Mainly because it was massive and there was no real way of ignoring it, especially when the waning sunlight on the school rooftop painted Akira in highlights of red and blue.

And just when he thought Akira couldn’t get more attractive he gains fucking magical powers, a mask and a whole lot of leather. 

It’s unfair really. How one person can be allowed to be that fucking pretty? That damn alluring? Ryuji spends one to many sleepless nights angrily staring at his ceiling pouting about it. 

It’s even more unfair how genuinely great of a person Akira is. So he gets to have high cheekbones  _ and  _ be a super cool dude? 

It’s all so unfair but Ryuji isn’t mad about it. 

Not when Akira eats ramen with him, trains with him, listens to him talk about comic books like he is saying the most interesting things. He can’t help but feel anything but lucky when Akira even so much as looks at him. 

Akira makes him feel seen. Makes him feel heard and important. Allows him to be loud and brash, seeming to enjoy it. He takes Ryuji as he is, potent and bright. Akira makes him feel like a better version of himself, one he knows he probably wouldn’t have achieved without Akira’s presence in his life. 

They’re friends in an instant. Good friends in a few afternoons and best friends in far less conversations. Ryuji can’t remember the last time he’s had someone to just joke around with, to throw faces at in the hallways, have something to look forward to at lunch, and another reason to not pay attention in class.

**Ryuji:**

**man i’m so fucking hungry i woke up late and missed breakfast :((((((((**

**From: Kira**

**you should wake up earlier**

**From: Kira**

**jk lmao who am i kidding**

**Ryuji:**

**fuck you, i’m hungry n ur just making fun of me**

**From:Kira**

**lol**

**From: Kira**

**i think i have like a protein bar, if you want**

**Ryuji:**

**… what flavor is it**

**From: Kira**

**r u seriously being picky rn, arent u starving**

**Ryuji:**

**just cause i’m starving doesn’t mean i don’t have STANDARDS, really what sort of floozy do u take me for**

**From: Akira**

**it’s fuckin peanut butter**

**From: Kira**

**whore**

**Ryuji:**

**that’s so gross wtf.**

**From: Kira**

**go back to sleep. And starve.**

**Ryuji:**

**everyone knows chocolate r the best**

**From: Kira**

**i think ur being biased, peanut butter is p good**

**Ryuji:**

**you mean to tell me a pea NUTTED in this bar??**

**From: Kira**

**i’m BLOCKING YOU**

**Ryuji:**

**LMAOSKDK**

Ryuji gets a protein bar chucked at his face when they meet up after school and he’s sure he hasn’t laughed that hard in so long, despite the slight sting of his forehead. Akira has a real mean throwing arm. 

The days pass and they’re filled with Akira. Ryuji finds himself telling him things he hadn’t talked about to anyone. He also finds himself not regretting it. It feels really nice. 

Akira watches Ryuji run from where he sits on the grass, long legs splayed in front of him as he struggles to catch his breath from their work out. The sun is warm and the breeze is gentle against their sweaty skin. He often finishes early and waits for Ryuji to tire himself out or drags him from the track when he starts pushing himself too hard. 

Ryuji does another lap. Sticking his tongue out and grinning wide at Akira when he passes him. He’s sweaty and gross and most definitely  _ looks  _ it, but Akira only laughs, head thrown back, letting the sun shine on the sheen of sweat across his collarbone and Ryuji trips on his feet. 

He has a face full of grass and Akira at his side in an instance.

Akira does an awful job at pretending not to laugh as he helps him up and Ryuji shoves at him as soon as he’s planted his own two feet firmly on the ground again. Akira only laughs some more and Ryuji wants to kiss him. 

Instead he laughs along with Akira and that feels like enough. 

Ryuji never really considers confessing about the giant and growing crush he has on his best friend. Even if he gets quite close too by accident sometimes. It never really seemed all that important, just as long as they hung out and talked he was happy. He didn’t need anything more. 

But Akira, ever the leader, confesses to him first. 

It was after Kamoshida, they were wired and equally as exhausted, their bodies still not used to the stress of their personas. Ann had gone home, somber and wanting her bed. Morgana taking refuge in Akira’s bag and promptly falling asleep.Ryuji wanted to do the same when Akira wrapped two slim fingers around his wrist and invited him to eat. Despite his protesting limbs, he’s pretty sure if held at gunpoint he wouldn’t have been able to refuse.

They sink into their stools, Akira mumbling out their order. The fact Akira remembered Ryuji’s preferred broth and meat shouldn’t make him blush but there he was. A shining red spectacle beneath the restaurant lights.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, too tired to say it any louder but Akira hears him anyways, like he always does.

“Of course,” is all he replies, a rare soft smile on his lips.

They eat with bouts of silence save for the occasional nudge they give each other when they notice one dozing off into their food. He has to give Akira a hard pinch to save him from falling head first into boiling broth, to which Akira complains and rubs his arm for ten minutes as if Ryuji didn’t save him from a far worse fate, but okay, be dramatic. 

They both struggle to stay awake even more on the train home, bellies satiated and the constant buzz of the train around them working as a lullaby of sorts. Both of them coming in and out of sleep as they try and rest their eyes. One too long blink later and Ryuji completely misses his stop, waking up to the static voice announcing their arrival in Yongenjaya. 

“Ah fuck,” He says, already thinking of the earful his mom is gonna give him as he shakes Akira awake next to him. His glasses were tilted on his face, mouth slightly ajar as he slept peacefully, Ryuji’s heart soared at the sight.

“Wake the fuck up dude,” He says, because he’s a romantic and drags a sleepy Akira through the streets of Yongen.

The sky was pink and orange, Akira’s pockets jingled as keys clinked against the gold medal, they walked together, as the air around them smelled more like coffee then a summer afternoon. 

“This you?” Ryuji asked, face completely dumbfounded as Akira nodded at the coffee shop. Lots of questions, Ryuji decided to leave them for a different time, one were he wasn't two steps from passing out cold.

“Come in,” Akira says, halting the goodbyes before Ryuji had even started. 

“‘Kira, I would but I’m so fucking tired and I gotta get home,” he said, despite how the warmth of the shop seemed to call to him. The prospect of spending even more time with Akira seeming more and more alluring. 

“You’re gonna collapse Sakamoto.” Akira says with an eye roll lacking its usual energy. 

“So are you! I wanna collapse on my  _ bed _ !” He empathized his point with a flair of his aching arms. 

Akira only seemed to sigh and shake his head in defeat. 

“Fine, wait here for a second,” Akira said with a small motion of his hand before he disappeared into the dim shop. The strong aroma of coffee replaced Akira as he went. 

Ryuji sighed, leaning against the door, trying to sink his entire weight on it to give his legs a break. His thoughts wandered to earlier that day, the palace and fight. Kamoshida’s distortion had never really taken him by surprise, merely just angered him. To blatantly see what he thought of that school, how he treated students. Every statue and cell chamber made Ryuji see red and sick to his stomach. 

He remembers the palace crumbling around them, the destruction of the statues and falling golden chandeliers, Kamoshida on his knees, the sharp pain in his leg as he ran. He feels his hands clenched at his sides and will himself to calm down. 

It’s all over now. They did the right thing.

The soft tingling of a bell pulls him from his recollection and he looks over to see Akira, looking exactly the same way as before? Just missing the Morgana bag. Why did he have him wait out here then?

“Here I got you something,” Akira said, voice uncharacteristically small, hand outstretched and eyes staring very pointedly at the floor. 

“Ah what dude, you didn’t hafta get me nothin,” Ryuji says as he meets Akiras hand with his own, if he was more alert he’d probably be blushing at the fact that Akira had  _ gotten  _ him something. 

“It’s not nothing big,” Akira almost whispers as he shoves a small chocolate bar in Ryujis hand. Milk chocolate, his favorite. 

“Chocolate protein bars are gross, so I got you candy instead,” Akira says, voice airy and light with chuckles. 

Ryuji is overwhelmed for the tenth time that day, the simple action threatening to wrench his love confession from his throat without his consent. He held the chocolate bar to his chest and took a breath to calm himself and the emotions swirling in his head over a fucking  _ candy bar _ . He opens his mouth finally to thank Akira, who had been smiling softly at him the whole time but he never gets the chance. 

Akira steps too close and kisses him. 

Ryuji couldn’t breathe, hadn’t even closed his eyes and was almost glad for it because Akira looked even prettier this close up. Dark eyes closed and blush on his nose and cheeks. Distantly Ryuji’s brain was screaming at him to kiss back, it took one of Akira’s hands to cradle his cheek for it to finally kick in. 

_ Holy Shit. _

Ryuji reached up to grab at the hand Akira was holding him with and kissed him back. Running on nothing but adrenaline and the feeling of Akira’s lips on his own.

God how he’d dreamed of that moment. Too often, if he was being embarrassingly honest. But nothing compared to the real thing.

Akira tasted like the broth they shared, smelled like coffee and sweat and Ryuji  _ loved  _ it. Akira’s other hand was grabbing onto the front of his shirt so hard Ryuji was afraid if he moved it’d rip. 

They kissed for what felt like hours, but it was only a few seconds before they finally parted. Panting together beneath the pinks and oranges of the setting sun. 

Ryuji felt giddy, heart pounding so hard he’s sure the people  _ inside _ the shop could hear it. Akira looked no better, as he leaned his forehead against Ryuji’s with a breathless laugh. Ryuji’s heart soared at hearing it.

“Okay now you can go.” Akira says, despite making no effort to move.

“Holddd up! You can’t just confess to me and send me home!”

“I thought you were about to collapse.” Akira smirks and Ryuji  _ loves _ him so much.

“Well, no  _ yeah  _ I still am but for multiple reasons now!”

Akira is laughing fully now, full bellied and loud, Ryuji’s favorite if he had to rate them. Ryuji joins in, happy and more relaxed than he’s felt in so long. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Akira says once they catch their breath again. Ryuji realizes their fingers are still linked together and the soft traces Akira is making on his own. 

“What? No way!? How long!” It’s literally too good to be true, there’s no way Akira had been crushing on Ryuji at the same time. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’m just glad you like me too,” Akira sighs, and Ryuji wants to shake him because who wouldn’t like Akira? “Now go home, I’m so fucking tired.” 

“Sometimes you make me want to strangle you.” 

“Valid, but how about instead of attempting murder, you can kiss me,” Akira says, eyes full of mirth and hand outstretched as if they’re coworkers on a business deal. 

Ryuji moves and pulls Akira toward him, arms encircling that criminally small waist of his and shivering softly when Akira’s hands trail up his arms to loop around his neck. He feels Akira’s breath on his own lips and can see the faint return of pink on his face, dark lashes framing even darker eyes that seem to burn into Ryuji. 

Ryuji leans in first, lips mere centimeters apart. 

“What a perfect position to strangle you,” He whispers and catches the laugh that bubbles out of Akira with his own lips.

———

The following weeks feel like a dream. Kamoshida confesses, they celebrate, he’s running and Akira keeps kissing him. Even through the horror show that is exam week he’s walking on clouds. 

They’re studying at the diner, Akira’s coffee lukewarm between them as Ryuji asks for yet another soda.

“Those things will kill you, you know,” Akira says, not looking up from the passage he was reading. 

“How much coffee do you drink again?” Ryuji retorts, no heat in his words. 

“You got me there,” Akira replies before he gets back to highlighting things in his book. 

It amazed him that Akira  _ actually  _ studied when they did together. The first “do you wanna study together?” text he sent, Ryuji thought it was a very obvious “do you wanna make out?” text, but Akira had actually shown up with textbooks and now Ryuji knows so much more about contemporary style artists. 

He doesn’t really mind though. He doesn’t mind at all actually, because Akira looks adorable when he concentrates. Pencil twirling in his hands as he reads or explains. His voice is soft and concise when explaining something to Ryuji, sometimes he asks questions he already knows the answers to because he just  _ loves  _ how Akira describes things. 

Akira also yells with him when math problems are just not working out for the both of them and Ryuji finds his complaints endearing and hilarious. 

“Why the fuck do I need to find the x? It’s there. Found it, fuck you,” Akira grumbles as he erases his equation for the third time. 

“Yeah you tell that graph babe,” Ryuji chuckles as Akira blushes and tries to work through the problem again. 

In the end Akira doesn’t solve the problem, they share ice cream and waste money at the arcade claw machine. Akira goes home with a plush cat (Ryuji names it Morgana 2.0), they hold hands on the way back to Leblanc and Ryuji just barely passed his exams.

———

Ryuji heard of the honeymoon phase, saw it end with his own two eyes when he was on the track team and everyone was getting girlfriends. The glamoured two months of flowers and date nights turning to only anniversaries and fights over text messages. 

He thinks of that every so often. Wonders when their honeymoon will be over. Whenever Akira looks at him and he still gets butterflies, how he still trembles when they kiss and can barely get through a compliment without self imploding. 

They’ve gotten about halfway into Madarame’s palace. It was proving to be a rather emotionally exhausting ordeal. Each infiltration leaves them more angry at the false artist and confused at Kitagawa’s defense of him. 

The decision to continue with their plan to change his heart despite Kitagawa’s feelings about it, wasn’t sitting entirely well with all of them. For the first time Ryuji saw the weight of being leader on Akira’s shoulders, he didn’t like it. 

Akira is laying across from him in his small bed. Thunder and rain is the soundtrack to their sleepy breaths and words. Somewhere far away Morgana meows about it being a good day to go into mementos and Ryuji tries not to be too happy when Akira burrows himself further into Ryuji in response. They’d go tomorrow, he thought. They deserved a break.  _ Akira  _ deserves a break. 

So he runs his fingers through Akira’s hair, lets him doze off as a storm rages against the windows of the attic, the sweet smell of coffee embracing them both. Ryuji is close to dozing off when Akira suddenly moves to make himself more comfortable, his nose and glasses getting squished against the crook Ryuji’s arm. 

“You’re gonna break ‘em,” He chuckles fondly as he moves to softly take off Akira’s glasses before he crushes them in his sleep. Akira only hums in response, eyes blinking slowly with sleep. 

Ryuji folds the black frames and puts them on the window ledge turning back to Akira who was looking up at him. A sleep doped look in his eyes. Ryuji marvels at him a bit. He’s beautiful, he thinks, for the millionth time.

He doesn’t ever see Akira without his glasses much he realizes. 

He looks different, open almost, free. Maybe that’s just because there isn’t glass before his eyes anymore but the change is breathtaking. 

“You look good without your glasses,” he says, cause it’s the truth and he never passes up an opportunity to compliment Akira. 

“Hm you think so?” Akira answers with a yawn, more interested in his nap and Ryuji’s body warmth than his glasses. Ryuji hums an affirmative into the mess of curls as Akira snuggles even closer. 

——-

Akira Kurusu is beautiful.

Striking and pretty and seemingly oblivious to that fact. 

He either didn’t notice the looks and full body turns in his direction or he just didn’t care to acknowledge them. Ryuji doesn’t know which one he’d prefer. He’s also dealing with why he cares at all.

He isn’t a jealous person, never really has been. And Akira was his own person, his own very very attractive person, he was kind and wonderful and Ryuji trusted him with his life. 

It wasn’t that Ryuji was jealous, he just had eyes. And was very aware of the way girls sighed when Akira walked past them and how Yusuke compared Akira to famous artworks. Which Akira would laugh at and Ryuji would agree with him, because frankly yeah, Yusuke was right when he compared him to the grandiose of the Sistine Chapel ceiling. 

Akira never gave him a reason to be jealous though. Despite the looks and comments, Ryuji never paid them much mind. Just enough to tease his boyfriend about his exuding charm and how  _ irresistible _ he was. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Akira was pink beneath his glasses and Ryuji was over the moon.

“Please baby, if you bat your pretty little eyelashes at the seller you’d get all the jam breads your heart desires for free,” Ryuji teased, eating one of the said jam breads. 

“Aw you think my eyelashes are pretty?” Akira countered, exaggeratedly batting his eyelashes so fast Ryuji was almost worried he’d hurt himself if he wasn’t so busy cracking up.

“Oh my god never mind you look crazy,” He laughed harder as Akira gasped loudly in mock hurt. 

“A moment ago I was pretty.” 

“At this moment you still are.”

Akira blushes and Ryuji smiles. 

“And you say I’m the charming one,” Akira says, standing closer to the wall Ryuji was leaning on.

“Well with our reputations someone has to be,” He snorts and Akira only shakes his head as he leans in to kiss him softly. 

Ryuji remembers the first time they kissed in school. It was chaste, a simple greeting. He remembers how the hallway seemed to still and explode all at once, he remembers Ann’s sigh of annoyance at the display, he remembers Akira’s smirk against his lips. Giddiness and pride soared through his veins everytime he remembered. 

The two troublemakers, criminal and punk, a true power couple of the century. He briefly remembers Ann saying they're the new royal couple and how Akira had choked on his soda from laughing so hard. 

“I’m gonna tell my school newspaper friend that you’re actually a giant womanizer,” Akira says after pulling away, still close enough for anyone to be annoyed with their PDA.

“Says the dude that just bought like ninety jam breads,” Ryuji laughed, poking at Akira’s lumpy bag, “You know the rest of us get cut off at three jam breads.” 

“Shut up,” Akira smirks and laughs and kisses him and Ryuji feels like the luckiest person in the world. 

———

If Ryuji had to pinpoint the moment things changed, he wouldn’t be able too. In all honesty he didn’t want to. Didn’t want to circle the date in the calendar when shit started to hit the fan. All he knows is that it happened, and somehow, it’s Goro Akechi's fault.

Ryuji hadn’t been expecting much from their field trip, he was honestly just looking forward to not being in class for those days. But if you told him he’d be meeting the most insufferable person on the face of earth he’d probably laugh. 

Until he met  _ him _ .

Goro Akechi, the human embodiment of the word pleasant, that also wore corduroy and swallowed dictionaries for dinner. 

He didn’t think much of him at first, Ann filled them in on his apparent popularity as the camera crew worked around them and he continued to think nothing of him as Akechi walked his lanky ass onstage.

Until he started  _ talking. _

Goro Akechi, the human embodiment of arrogance, wrapped neatly with soft brown waves of hair and big twinkling eyes. 

Every word out of Akechi’s mouth was to the contrary of the Phantom Thieves, of them and what they did. Each word so cleverly spoken, accentuated with winks and smiles and if he grabbed his chin one more time Ryuji was going to break his fingers. 

How could this “Great and Brilliant” detective not see what they were doing was right? How could all these people agree? Kamoshida and Madarame deserved what happened, and so does any shitty adult like them.

As Ryuji not so quietly stewed in his anger, he didn’t notice until it was happening, until he heard Akira talking, and Akechi answering back. 

“They’re justice itself.” Akira said. With a spark behind his eyes Ryuji couldn’t recognize. Distantly, he realized he was holding his breath. 

He looked up at Akechi, who’s own eyes shifted at Akira’s words but it came as soon as it went. Akechi laughed, light and pretty.

Ryuji grinded his teeth. 

“If I can ask one more question,” Akechi continued, and Ann placed one hand over his arm as if to ground him, he appreciated it more than he can say. 

“If your friend next to you,” Akira tensed a bit and Ann’s hand tightened, “Suddenly had a change of heart, wouldn't you think that was the work of these Phantom Thieves?” 

“They only target criminals.” Akira says, sure of himself and powerful, not for the first time Ryuji is reminded why they named him leader. 

Ryuji doesn’t pay attention to what Akechi answers with, or to the rest of the interview, but Akira does. Akira doesn’t look away. Ryuji doesn’t know how to feel. 

It ends and Ryuji decides to focus on the anger of being basically slandered and not being able to do anything, instead of how Akira was watching Akechi the entire time. 

“I don’t like how he was making us out to be,” he says, Akira holds his hand and it helps a bit. 

“Yeah it sounded like we’re the bad guys,” Ann said, chewing on her lip, a habit she’s had since middle school. 

“And did you see how everyone was eating that shit up?” He recalled the awed looks of the girls in the audience, the intensity in Akira’s eyes. 

“He’s called the detective prince for a reason,” Ann sighed and shook her head. 

“Prince my ass.” Ryuji scoffs and he doesn’t know why his chest eases when Akira nods along with him.

Ryuji hopes that that’s the end of it, but of course, it’s not. It seemed the world was finally paying attention to them, and a whole lot of it wasn’t in a good light.

Their beginners' luck had run dry because within a week they were scaling walls in Kaneshiro’s palace with a new team member at their side and Akechi on every tv station. 

Everywhere he turned, more and more people were fawning over the detective's charm and status. More news covering his solved cases and interviews saturated with yet more winks and smiles. 

It made Ryuji sick.

He couldn’t place it. He couldn’t put his finger on it but something just wasn't right with Akechi.

Yusuke would tell him it’s just Ryuji’s reaction to the shit he’s saying about the Phantom Thieves, that it's understandable and then also proceed to shit talk Akechi with him. (Which he enjoyed so  _ so _ much). 

But it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t how he was turning people against them, it was just,  _ everything _ about him. 

That high and mighty attitude that could almost suffocate him through the tv screen, the well timed jokes and wind chimes of his laughter and airiness in his tone. It was all so well  _ practiced.  _ How could no one else see it? 

It made Ryuji’s skin crawl. 

**Group: phantom thieves of EATING THE RICH**

**Ryuji:**

**i saw akechi today. day = ruined.**

**From: Ann:**

**LMAO ugh please don’t even talk about him, i think if i hear his name one more time i’ll throw up.**

**Ryuji:**

**u n me both**

**From: Yusuke**

**no one:**

**ryuji: FUCK AKECHI**

**From: Ann**

**PLEASEEE**

**From: Yusuke**

**i’m not wrong**

**Ryuji:**

**ur not wrong and i’m not ashamed**

**From: Yusuke**

**period i guess**

**From: Makoto**

**Yeah, I’m close to shoving my fist through a wall, everytime I turn on the tv he’s there like ?? Is there no other celebrity in Japan available??**

**From: Kira**

**hatsune miku is right fucking THERE**

**From: Ann**

**pleASE SHUT THE FUCK UP**

**Ryuji:**

**he’s RIGHT and he should SAY IT**

**From: Yusuke**

**miku is an Icon.**

**Ryuji:**

**and thats on what?**

**From: Kira**

**PERIOD.**

**From: Makoto**

**anyways, just do your best to ignore him, we’re doing what’s right**

**From: Ann**

**we’ll show him!**

**From: Yusuke**

**shove our victory down his throat**

**From: Kira**

**tell us how u really feel yusuke**

**From: Yusuke**

**i viciously dislike him, i’ve thought i’d been clear on that ?**

  
  


Ryuji tries to follow Makoto’s advice, really he does. It just seems fucking impossible with Akechi’s face plastered in every jumbo screen. Still he tries. It feels easier to do with Akira around, with the new friends they’ve made, with the new power they have.

His favorite “Ignore Akechi’s Bitch Ass” pastime is spending time with Akira. Which isn’t saying much because he really just likes spending time with Akira anyways.

Ryuji was loitering around the small flower shop Akira was working at. He liked to come by on Akira’s breaks at his  _ many _ jobs to try and persuade him to fucking quit. It amazed him how busy Akira always was, he felt overwhelmingly lucky that Akira managed to always make time for him no matter what. 

“So what are these?” He was pointing at a large red flower, with blooming petals that stood proud despite how heavy they looked. 

Akira looked over from where he was delicately making a bouquet. He had asked Ryuji to help him pick out the colors and in Ryuji’s humble opinion, he did not disappoint. 

“Chrysanthemum, they’re pretty right?” 

“How do you even spell that?” Ryuji agreed as he thumbed through the many soft petals.

“I have no fucking clue,” Akira answered honestly, laughing softly as he finished wrapping the bouquet with ribbons. 

“And you call yourself a florist,” He replied, with mock disappointment in his voice. 

“I don’t call myself anything, now here,” He turned to have the freshly made bouquet gently shoved into his arms. Ryuji looked down at it, impressed with the bright colors and shape of all the flowers, blooming and unbruised. “Take these to your mom,” and before Ryuji could ask him anymore Akira turned and shoved another, somewhat smaller bouquet into his hands.

The second batch of flowers was made of varying shades of red flowers. Ryuji couldn’t name any but he knew roses when he saw them. 

“That's for you,” Akira said, and had the audacity to look shy. Ryuji is reminded of Akira’s confession, of the chocolate bar in his hand, and setting sun on Akira’s cheeks. 

“You made these for me?” It’s a stupid question, but Akira is smiling and Ryuji returns it ten fold.

“I’m trying to charm the Sakamoto’s,” Akira laughs, eyes scrunching behind his glasses, “Is it working?” 

Ryuji pretends to think about it with a hand to his chin and Akira laughs harder. 

“Pretty sure it never stopped working,” He replied and kissed the daylights out of him, careful to not squish the flowers between them. 

The bouquet of roses were placed in a small vase near his window. He woke up to them everyday, their scent a comfort and reminder of that day. 

That’s how the weeks passed. With Kaneshiro’s change of heart taking the public by storm and Akechi being painted as the very wrong and useless detective Ryuji knew him for. 

Ryuji wasn’t cruel, but he wasn’t gonna lie and say that didn’t bring him any joy. 

They had proven Akechi and all his supporters wrong. They celebrated. 

Akira doesn’t wear his glasses when they fail to go see the fireworks festival. Ryuji thinks he’s brighter than the twinkling colors exploding in the night sky.

They felt untouchable. 

They weren’t and Medjed was proof of that. 

Ryuji didn’t expect what Medjed had turned out to be. He hasn’t expected Alibaba or rather Futaba Sakura, and hadn’t expected the giant fucking pyramid that they had to break into. He hadn’t expected it to be so, exhausting. The cognitive sun beat down on them and the shadows were fiercer. The closer they got to the end, the more heartbreaking the palace got.

Everyone felt it. As soon as they approached the large monument. The sadness that permeated every block and grain of sand. Felt the old stink of guilt stick to their sweaty skin as they went deeper into the palace. Every mural another suckerpunch to the lungs, leaving bruises painted in sorrow. The palace, the  _ tomb,  _ was hard on them. 

At least the rest of them had the privilege of going straight home after their infiltrations. Akira had to return to Leblanc, look Sojiro in the face and not shatter with apologies. Ryuji started sleeping over more. 

It's in one of the impromptu sleep overs that Ryuji is once again reminded of the inescapable constant that is Akechi in their lives. 

They were sore all over, he could tell Akira had a heachache coming on with how he rubbed at his eyes. Morgana was blissfully quiet the entire time. Leblanc had always felt like a haven, an untouchable oasis of curry and  _ Akira _ . It makes seeing Akechi sitting at the counter like he belongs there, much more jarring and infuriating. 

He was reading a book, gloved fingers thumbing pristine ivory, delicate legs crossed over each other. Bright russet eyes moved towards the door as the familiar bell jingled above them, his shiny honey hair moving smoothly across his pretty features. Ryuji wanted to scream. 

He saw when the realization sparked in those observant eyes, saw the way they took in every inch of Akira, saw the spark in them and glint of starch white canines as he opened his mouth to talk. “You’re home awfully late,” a smile bordering on playful on his lips. Behind him Sojiro chuckled and Ryuji had never felt more betrayed. 

“Honey, I’m home.” Akira responded. Easily, as if this was a common occurrence, all traces of exhaustion gone, twirling his long fingers in a greeting.  _ Now  _ Ryuji had never felt more betrayed. 

“The fuck are you doing here?” Ryuji ignored the pointed look Sojiro gave him. 

Akechi, ever the charmer. laughed. A gloved hand waving in the air as if they had been long time friends bantering. “I come for the coffee, it happens to be my  _ favorite _ .” Akechi said, eyes only on Akira. “I’ll be going now, I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome.”

“No worries.”

“Bye.”

Ryuji and Akira spoke at the same time. He chalks it up to the exhaustion that he doesn't explode right there. 

Ryuji noticed the slight flinch Akechi’s shoulders gave at Ryuji’s tone. Noticed the way hope gleams in his eyes at Akira’s voice. He chalks it up to the exhaustion that for a millisecond he feels, kinda bad for Akechi. 

“You’re welcome here whenever, detective,” Sojiro says, cancelling all of Ryuji’s negativity with his almost paternal remark. 

Akechi  _ preens _ , smiles bright at Sojiro and next to him Akira chuckles softly. Too soft for Ryuji’s tastes. 

“Go upstairs if you are going to hang out boys, I know it’s summer but it’s still working hours for some of us.”Sojiro says, no bite in his words. They go to do just that, muscles reminding them of their afternoon endeavour. He hears Akira barely restrain a hiss of pain from clenched teeth. 

“I'll be going as well,” Akechi says as he raises the cup to drink the last of his coffee. Their eyes meet above the lip of the cup, distantly he hears Sojiro talking to Akechi but he can't focus on anything but the smug look Akechi is throwing his way, can only feel his blood boil when he blinks and suddenly that look is filled with charisma and being thrown at Akira instead. It feels like an eternity and Ryuji is too fucking tired for this. 

He grabs Akira’s hand, laces their fingers together and  _ revels _ in the slow circles Akira traces onto his thumb. He swings their connected hands together, even if all the muscles in his arm protest, he makes sure Akechi sees. 

Akechi looks like someone had struck him and for a second time, he almost feels bad. For a second there was nothing but anger and something akin to sadness swirling in those pretty eyes of his. For a second Ryuji feels like he truly sees Goro Akechi. Only for a second. 

They groan the entire slow crawl up the stairs, hands still clasped.

Akira places Morgana gently on the bed where he promptly climbs out and sprawls across the tiny expanse of the bed. “You’re taking up the whole bed Mona,” Akira complains as he shoves a liquid like Morgana to a more optimal position. As soon as he does Ryuji took up the empty spaces, bones aching and moaning in relief. He heard Akira chuckle somewhere above him and it sounded so similar to the laugh he gave Akechi just minutes ago.

Ryuji didn’t like it. He didn’t like the emotions that simple conversation bubbled up. He didn’t like the way Akechi looked at Akira, he didn’t like the way they seemed to know each other. He didn’t like how his throat closed up at the thought of mentioning it. He’d never felt that way before, at least not with Akira. Akira had a way of having people open up to him, it was hard for Ryuji to shut up around him, spilling every intimate detail about his life after just a few meetings. So the hesitancy was new, and wholly unwelcome.

“Since when do you talk to Akechi?” He tried to keep the accusing tone out of his voice, emphasis on  _ tried _ . 

He felt the bed shift with Akira’s familiar weight on it, heard a soft sigh before feeling his lips pressed to his forehead. Ryuji didn’t know why that made him want to cry. 

“I don’t really talk to him, he just comes by, drinks his coffee,” Akira explained with a yawn tugging at his throat. 

_ Why didn’t you tell me _ , Ryuji wants to sneer. But he’s tired and knows lashing out won’t do any good. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” He says instead. 

“We’ve been busy with bigger things,” Akira explains. “Bigger, cryptic egyptian things.” 

He had a point, Ryuji sighed. Still the explanation did little to settle the simmering anxiety beneath his skin. 

“I thought you didn't like  _ him _ at all, was surprised,” His voice was quiet, holding a hidden venom at the thought of Akechi. 

“Surprised? I don’t like him.” Akira yawned again, his words slipping from behind his teeth carelessly as Ryuji’s thoughts heightened next to him. 

“So you just call everyone you don't like honey?” He snapped and felt a shot of satisfaction run up his spine at the jolt Akira gives. Finally realizing what was being asked of him. 

“Are you mad?” Akira said softly, eyes swimming with apologies and shock.

Was he mad? He didn't really know. He knows what his anger looks like on him. This felt different, uglier and nastier than his usual fury. 

“Just answer the question Akira.” 

“He’s not my friend or anything Ryu,” He started, and Ryuji refused to crack under the nickname. “You guys know how I feel about him, all his views and opinions are completely against us. But he likes to talk a lot.”

Ryuji felt hot coiling anger release through his veins. He likes to talk? To Akira? And Akira lets him, listens to him, like he does with Ryuji. He opened his mouth to interrupt but was stopped by Akira’s own waving hands. His mouth snapped shut in a frown and waited for Akira to continue. 

“Again, not friends, he kinda talks at me when he’s here,”

“What? Doesn't he have other people to talk to? Cant he just do an interview about his favorite places in tokyo or the shampoo he fucking uses?” He doesn't quite yell but he might as well have in the quiet of the attic. 

Akira only gave him a sad smile, eyes looking distant. “No, I don't think he does Ryuji,” Akira said, sympathy lacing every syllable. Ryuji stopped at his words, searching Akira’s face. Akira was looking at him with a sad, hopeful expression. Eyes pleading with him to understand his sudden budding friendship with Akechi. 

The thing is Ryuji didn't want to. Goro Akechi made his living being the prettiest Phantom Thief hater in the world, they were public enemy number one to the detective. Ryuji wanted to go back to just hating him, muting his interviews and talking shit about him with Yusuke. 

But he remembers the look in Akechi’s eyes when he basically told him to fuck off. The genuine hurt. The smile he gave Sojiro when he spoke. Remembers the sadness that seemed to make a home in Akechi’s features. He understands. 

It pisses him off, but he gets it. 

He sighs, letting himself get more comfortable against the thin sheets, Akira doesn't take his eyes off him. 

“I think you have a complex,” Ryuji says. Akira laughs, it sounds relieved and adoring. 

“A complex?”

“Yeah, like you need to shelter every stray that throws puppy eyes at you.”

“Don't talk about Morgana like that.” Akira smiles and moves to lay closer to Ryuji, who throws an arm over his waist. 

They stay like that for a few minutes. Face to face, in and out of sleep. Content in each other's company. 

“I still don't like him, and I don't like the fact that you kept it from me,” Ryuji breaks the silence, words mumbled. 

Akira’s face scrunched up into one of pain, like he slammed his toe into a corner. It made Ryuji snort. “I really didn't mean to keep it from you. I wasn't thinking much of it and you hate him so much I didn’t think it would do any good mentioning it along with everything else we’re dealing with.” Akira said without pausing to breathe, grabbing Ryuji’s hands to squeeze and get his point across. Ryuji looked through sleep lidded eyes to see the panic and apology written all over his face. 

He took one of his hands from Akira to stroke across his cheek, heart soaring when Akira leaned into it immediately. He smiled. This was something only he had. That no ace detective, no matter how attractive or depressing backstory would take away. 

“It's okay, I understand. You just can't help yourself huh? Helping everyone you see. ‘Is what i love about ya,” He says, he feels the skin under his hand grow hot and flushed and suddenly all his worries disappear.

Akira was looking at him like he always did. Like he hung the stars and pulls in the tides. “Aw dude you love me? That’s so fucking gay.” He says, because he’s a romantic dreamboat and Ryuji wouldn't have him any other way. 

“Nah, everyone knows its not gay to tell your homies you love them,” He replies through short laughs.

“I think you're confusing that with kissing your homies goodnight.”

“Well I'm passing out so can I get a kiss goodnight, homie.”

Akira laughs some more before leaning closer to do just that. Ryuji closed his eyes, giving in to sleep and the feeling of Akira’s lips on his own. It's chaste and soft and perfect like always. 

“Don’t ever call me homie before I kiss you though.”

———

Futaba turns into a neon spaceship, the Pyramid collapses, the sun doesn't let up as it beats down on them all the way back home. Ryuji is glad when it's over, that tomb of suffering forever behind them now. Futaba sleeps, they wait. It's a  _ great  _ way to spend their summer. 

He doesn't feel too bummed about it though, he spends his days beating shitty video game bosses with Akira. Eating curry and sleeping next to each other, the warm summer breeze coming in through a cracked window doing nothing for the sweat on their skin. The days are hot, they sleep with pinkies interlocked, the only contact they can bear in the stifling heat. 

The heat only serves to remind him of the apparent dreamboat of a man he has as his boyfriend. As the temperature rose, Akira wore less and less. They all did really but he wasn't really keen on checking out Yusuke's pale ass legs. Akira was all tan and lean muscles, curly hair even more messy with the humidity, tresses sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck. Akira starts wearing more tank tops that are practically made of restaurant napkins with how thin they are. Ryuji isn't sure whether to curse or bless the day Ann took Akira shopping for a “summer wardrobe.” 

In the sweltering heat, they plan and worry. Plan a beach trip, worry it might never happen if Futaba doesn't wake up before the deadline. They plan to ignore their worries. Ryuji pulls out an old cooler, Ann and Makoto buy bathing suits. They ask about Futaba. Yusuke makes a list of all the fruits and drinks he wants present for their beach day, Akira makes Yusuke do the shopping with him. He visits Futaba with Morgana everyday. 

They hang out, mute the television at Leblanc, they go out to eat, ignore the jumbo screens and talk too loud to hear the radio. Akira starts stealing Ryuji’s tank tops. Ryuji pretends to be annoyed by it, making a mental note to steal his sweaters when winter arrives. 

The days pass sluggishly, the heat and deadline making everything slow to a crawl. He’d been with Yusuke and Akira when Futaba finally woke up. They were doing the usual, sprawled in different corners of the attic, comic books and art supplies scattered around them while an old action movie played on the equally ancient tv. Akira had all his windows open, they pretended that did anything for the stifling air in the room. Ryuji had been in the middle of convincing Yusuke to let him draw on a page in his sketchbook when they got the news, pastel held tightly in his hand as he reached over Yusuke who was trying as hard as possible to push him away. 

“Just one page Yusuke! I'm bored over here lemme try,” he whined into the clammy palm of Yusuke's hand, long ink stained fingers pushing at his face.

“No! You’re going to ruin the entire aesthetic!” 

“I'm going to ruin your  _ ass! _ Come on I’m great, my art teachers all said I was very passionate,” he said, and while that was true, he withheld the part of the story where he was eight years old at the time and finger painted with aggression. 

Yusuke opened his mouth, ready to absolutely destroy Ryuji for thinking he had one bone of artistic prowess in his body but never got the chance. “Guys, Futaba’s up.” Akira said from his place at his desk, where he had been playing witness to the scuffle. 

“Oh shit! Really?” Ryuji laughed and next to him Yusuke smiled. Collectively they breathed a sigh of relief, It was the last day before the deadline afterall. 

“Thank god, shall we make our way to see her then?” Yusuke stood up, snatching his sketchbook far from Ryuji’s reach on his way up. Ryuji flipped him off. 

Together they made their way the short trip to the Sakura household. Not before grabbing soda’s from the vending machines nearby, even the short walk proving to be too much movement underneath the blazing sun. 

They made it to the shade and sanctuary of Futaba’s cluttered ass room. Futaba was very much awake and very much overwhelmed with the beach plans. But they needed to celebrate! They had gotten rid of Medjed, well Futaba did, with a few clicks and other stereotypical hacker noises. Besides, did you really have a summer if you didn't go to the beach? 

“You’d think I’d be completely over sand after the metaverse but I’m super excited to go to the beach!” Ann had said and they all shared in her sentiments. 

“Going to the beach in actual beach clothes and not our very leather padded outfits, what a concept,” Akira had said and they shared a groan remembering the feeling of sand in their boots and belts.

The days pass faster, passing heat waves and excitement for their trip. In the end its a blur, of reintroducing Futaba into society and last minute prepping. 

They get a tan, well all except Futaba and Yusuke. The former wearing so much sunscreen the rays never had a chance to get to her, the latter ended up burning red like the shiny lobsters in his hands. Akira glows in the sunset, like he always does. He holds Ryuji’s hands as they all talk in front of the setting sun, feet submerged in the now chilling water. He listens to Futaba talk about her mother, to all their stories of grief and subsequent rebellion, he squeezes a little tighter as he stares at all his friends. 

“One hell of a summer guys,” he says, voice a bit stuck but no one call him out on it. Instead they laugh in agreement and Ryuji’s never felt more at home. 

“You could fucking say that again,” Akira says and softly sways their hands in the salty breeze, smiling at Ryuji with all the warmth of a solstice sun, eyes crinkling, free of the clunky frames and Ryuji, like always, thinks he’s beautiful. 

That night they share a bed, like usual. Ryuji’s body still sways with the waves of the beach and Akira kisses every new sun stained freckle on his cheeks. 

The rest of their summer goes about as Akechi free as their previous months. Not very. 

The takedown of Medjed makes them even more popular, the meter on the Aficionado website skyrocketing to positive seemingly overnight. It was a bit overwhelming, and ridiculously satisfying, Finally people were truly believing in them. Recognizing them for the heros they are. And like always Akechi has so much to say about it. 

Surprisingly Ryuji actually manages to drown it out, all his interviews and shows. Only because instead of being bombarded with Akechi through a screen, he’s bombarded with him in real life. Face to face, all the fucking time now. 

He’s often at Leblanc, always the same stool, sometimes a book or casefile in his hands. Always cheerful and all smiles when he sees Ryuji. Where the detective got the notion that they were friends? Was a mystery to him. He had enough clues to tell him it most likely had something to do with a certain curly headed, nosy as fuck Phantom Thief leader Part Time Barista boyfriend of his. 

When they didn’t casually meet at leblanc, they casually met at their train stops. Sometimes Akira was there, already talking to Akechi. He didn’t know if Akira pretended not to notice the fucking heart eyes Akechi was making at him or if Akira was just that dense. 

In the beginning of these chance meetings Ryuji only spared a greeting, keeping it short and as impersonal as possible, Just a nod of “I acknowledge you're standing there, bye.” Ryuji had planned to keep it that way but he found once again that Akira was right, Akechi really liked to talk. The conversation was usually kept between Akira and Akechi, Ryuji only jumping in when he was tired of Akechi talking about the Phantom Thieves. They never really talked about anything that particularly interested Ryuji, but he had learned a few things from simply listening. 

Like the fact that Akira played chess. Played it very well according to Akechi. Ryuji didn't have to dig very deep to figure out Akechi was almost terrifyingly competitive. He learned about Akechi’s dislike of sweets and how it's mostly for show. Ryuji wonders how much about him is for show. 

It didn't matter how little Ryuji said, Akechi filled the gaps in their bare conversation as possible. From his latest television showing to commenting on the weather. Who actually comments on the fucking weather? Goro fucking Akechi does. 

“The weather should start changing soon, finally an escape to this heat.” Akechi had said, fanning himself lightly, gloves creaking slightly.

It was just Ryuji today, he bet ten dollars Akira was still in bed dreaming, he leaned against the post staring intently at the tracks in front of him. 

“You’d probably be less hot without those fucking gloves on,” he says, he doesnt know what made him say it, but like always he doesnt really overthink it. 

Akechi laughs, light but it sounds different to his usual chuckles, genuine almost. Ryuji spares a glance at him, seeing a matching smile on his face. Ryuji feel something akin to pride rise in his chest, he squishes it the fuck down as fast as it comes. What the fuck?

“Always so brash, you are right though,” he says and Ryuji elects to ignore the brash comment. “It’s just become a part of my image, can’t seem to part with them now.”

Ryuji once again notices the sadness in his voice when he mentions his image, all at once he remembers the sadness in Akira’s eyes back on that first Leblanc meeting. He wonders what Akira would say if he was here now, what sweet words of comfort he’d give Akechi. Ryuji doesn't do well with sad, often manifesting itself as anger for him, he isn't that good at comforting people. 

“Dying of a heatstroke is a part of your image? Just admit you have gnarly fucking nails hidden under there dude,” he says instead, voice carrying in the tunnels and passing commuters. He tries not to look shocked when Akechi doesn’t immediately tell him to quiet down, even more when Akechi actually laughs. 

Loud and full. 

He laughs with his hands around his mouth, Ryuji doesn’t know why he’s disappointed in not seeing his teeth. Akechi’s hair falls around his eyes, filled with glee and bright despite the early hour of the morning. 

“You’ve caught me!” he says, once his laughter had died down, Ryuji couldn't tell if he was being honest but he was smiling at Ryuji as he spoke. “Maybe it’s you who should be the genius detective.” He jokes.

Akechi jokes. 

Huh. What an interesting morning. 

“Can’t be that hard,” Ryuji says, above him a static voice announces an approaching train. “It’s just a whole lot of this” Ryuji gives Akechi an over exaggerated wink and crosses his ankles. Akechi smiles a bit wider then at the display, “And a whole lot of ‘those ridiculous phantom thieves shall be dealt proper justice blah blah’” He puts on his best Akechi impersonation, which hes been told multiple times that its absolutely awful but  _ thats kinda the fucking point Yusuke thank you very much _ . 

He’s caught off guard again when Akechi laughs, even if that was what he was going for. This time there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips and sharp glint in his eyes. It reminds him of the way Akira’s eyes look behind his mask, mischievous and menacing. The familiarity kinda unsettles him. 

Akechi opens his mouth but the announcement of Ryuji’s train cuts him off. Ryuji feels relief and disappointment in equal measures, tries not to focus on why he’s disappointed the trains actually weren't delayed today. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry for keeping you!” Akechi says, mouth shaped a surprised “O” as he rubbed his neck. Ryuji chuckles a bit breathless, mind reeling a bit from the entire interaction. 

“No worries, detective,” he says, not waiting for a response before he boards the train, melting into the crowd of students and businessmen. He barely hears the floating whisper about the phantom thieves the whole ride. Mind too busy replaying the few minutes he spent with Akechi. 

He had seemed so  _ normal. _ Almost unsettling so. He compared it to his other interactions with Akechi, how he had moments where his smile bordered on mean, where his eyes focused with intensity, words sharp and heavy. Each word that left his mouth seemed so carefully chosen yet sometimes, they seemed completely honest. Smirking lips and eyes baring more truth than his well timed comments. 

Ryuji didn’t know what to think. 

So he did what he always did when he felt like that and pulled his phone out to text Akira. 

**From: Kira**

**Lmao, guess who overslept**

Ryuji laughed at that text he hadn't noticed he had received, he got a few dirty looks from the people around him. 

**Ryuji:**

**Rip lmao hope sojiro doesn't completely kill u**

He could imagine the scene perfectly, Akira running around, shirt half way done, feet shoved in shoes and Morgana barely inside Akira’s bag as he booked it out of Leblanc to the station. He twirled his thumbs above his keyboard before continuing to type.

**Ryuji** :

**Saw akechi again**

The reply comes a few minutes later and Ryuji can picture him standing for the next train. 

**From: Kira**

**Oh worm???**

**From: Kira**

**How was that, fave moment of ur day?**

**Ryuji:**

**Surprisingly, not that bad????**

**Incoming call: Kira**

Ryuji snorted and hit the answer button, barely getting a hello out as Akira started talking. 

“Not that bad?! Oh my god. What did he do? Give you a million dollars? Offer you a spot on television?” Ryuji can hear the smile on Akira’s disbelieving face. 

“Can you please shut up. I said it wasn't that bad, it was still bad,” he says and it's the truth. He isnt entirely sure he didnt hallucinate the entire slighty fucking bizzare interaction. 

“Not that bad is practically a compliment from you babe,” Akira said, he could hear the sounds of the bustling subway in the background. “So what happened? You barely say anything to him when we see him,”

“Yeah cause he fucking talks enough for three people, and nothing? He talked about the fucking weather, I made fun of his stupid fucking fashion choices and then left to go to school on time like a responsible student,” he says as he elbows his way through the open doors. 

Akira laughed, “You're the epitome of a responsible student, Makoto better watch out,” there's a pause and slight static as Akira finally boards. “Gotta say, did not expect you to warm up to him.”

Ryuji gives a hum at that, his pace slowing down so he could keep talking to him. “I haven't warmed up to shit. I'm frigid cold,” he stops by the vending machine outside the school gates and leans against the wall, ignoring the whispers that start up around him. “Just cause I didn't deck the guy doesn't mean we're all buddy - buddy now.” He huffs and checks the time. He had a few minutes until he’d be late. Akira laughs softly on the other end and Ryuji is reminded of Akechi again. He doesn't know why because Akira’s laughs are completely different. They’re clear and deep and easy. Akechi’s not so much, they're airy, charming and felt like punctuations rather than emotions. 

Rehearsed, he thinks. At least the ones he gives on TV, the ones that follow a stupid joke an interview makes or fangirl confession. Ryuji thinks about the smirk and chuckle Akechi gave him that morning. The amusing glint in his eye. Those felt different. A bit more real. 

“Can’t wait for you to leave me for a famous detective pretty boy,” Akira sighs exaggeratedly and Ryuji wants to throttle him. 

“Please shut the fuck up, I’m not gonna do that.”

“Oh so you admit you think he’s pretty.” 

“I never said that!” Ryuji yells and Akira cracks up. 

“I know, you’re more likely to leave me for Ann,” Akira says. Ryuji faintly hears Morgana complaining in the background. 

“Oh definitely,” he laughs as he hears a high pitched “Lady Ann!”

“Anyways, future relationship with Ann aside, Akechi’s weird. I don’t know how to feel about him.”

“Hm?” Akira hums, prompting him for more.

“I don’t know, I just, I get that whole lonely kid vibe and sometimes he says shit I agree with- Lemme finish,” He says because he knew Akira was about to interrupt, he only gets a short snort in return. “Like the shit about fuckass adults, not the shit he says about  _ us _ and if I hear him say justice one more time my heart will stop. But I feel like there’s a lot of shit we’re not seeing.” He finishes and Akira hums in agreement, he feels relieved at that. So he wasn't the only one who was feeling that. 

“You’ve always been good at reading people,” Akira says, almost as if he’s lost in thought. 

“It’s called a vibe check Akira, I'm fantastic at them.” 

Akira absolutely loses it at that and Ryuji can barely contain himself either. 

“So vibe check on our illustrious detective?” Akira says once he’d finally regained his composure. He hears the tell tale ding of train doors opening and shuffling. 

“I dont know what that word means but vibes are fucking weird dude. Very fucking weird.” 

———

The vibes seemed to only get weirder and weirder until things suddenly took a turn for the absolute fucking worst. 

Akira was very busy lately and he wore it horribly. They all were. No one commented on their leaders' dark circles and yawns. They had long since learned that Akira very rarely listened to them when they told him to sleep. 

“No time for sleep, deadlines.” He would say, grinning from ear to ear.

Deadlines indeed. 

Kunikazu Okumura. Ceo of Big Bang Burger and father of their newest addition to their group. Haru was sweet, easy to adore and almost heartbreakingly kind. Makoto took a liking to her almost instantly. No one was all that surprised. 

**Group: Phantom thieves of EATING THE RICH**

**Ryuji:**

**O shit should we change the group name**

**From:Yusuke**

**No. eat the rich. Sorry haru.**

**From: Haru**

**Understandable to be honest.**

**From: Futaba**

**Isn't it funny how we’re infiltrating a spaceship and my persona is a spaceship**

**From: Yusuke**

**It wasn't funny the first time you said it, very brave of you to think the 50th time would do the trick.**

**From: Futaba**

**I absolutely despise you.**

**From: Kira**

**Morgana says u should all go to sleep**

**From: Kira**

**Busy day of flying through ten thousand terminals tomorrow**

**From: Yusuke**

**Oh joy.**

Their infiltration had been taking a bit longer than usual. The amount of puzzles and powerful shadows they fought seemed to increase the deeper they progressed. The pressure of Haru’s arranged marriage to that fucking pig hanging heavy over their head.

On top of that he had been going out alot more lately, they still saw each other of course but their time together was mostly spent eating and wrestling Akira to nap. Anytime Akira was asked what he was up too he’d either say “Phantom thief shit,” or something along the lines of “Met with a Yakuza boss yesterday.” Ryuji laughed despite knowing, horrifyingly, that Akira was very much, not kidding. 

Sometimes though he would just shrug, a little wave of his hand and Ryuji knew he had been with Akechi. Akira never kept it from him, from any of them. They’d all caught on to the strange barely acquaintances relationship that had formed between them. None of them were burdened with spending as much time with him as Ryuji was, but the general consensus about Goro Akechi had changed from a “Fuck Goro Akechi Fan Club” to “Still Dont Trust Goro Akechi Club.’ 

They kept him at arm's length. 

Everyone but Akira that is. 

They had stolen the treasure. The old model spaceship box was given to Haru to keep and now they were doing their usual waiting. 

They’d decided to go fishing. Actually they were just sitting there watching the rippling water and talking. Ryuji was doing the most of it, Akira supplying commentary every once in a while. He was obviously distracted and Ryuji tried to ignore the ugly feeling in his chest at that. But it didn't take many half hearted hummed replies to snap his resolve.

“You’re not listening to me Akira,” he said, startling Akira out of his daze. He rolled his eyes, he really hadn’t been listening at all. 

“I'm sorry, I’m just kinda tired,” he replied, voice uncharacteristically soft and Ryuji felt dread start to pool in his stomach. He had always been good at reading people. Had known Kamoshida was a bastard since he first met him, felt the conflict in Yusuke when they first talked to him about Madarame, knew Akira and the heart he carried like the back of his hand. That’s why he knew Akira was lying to him. 

He wasn’t really sure how to mention it but he never had the tact for things kind of things anyways. 

“Tired? You slept until the afternoon today dude tell me what's really going on.” he said, hating how his tone turned almost desperate at the end. 

Akira eyes had widened just a fraction, enough to let Ryuji know that he was right. That there was something he wasn't telling him. 

“What is it Akira? You can tell me,” he tries and holds it together knowing if Akira doesn’t tell him he’s going to explode because he didn't like this at all. Akira told him everything, they told each other everything. Akira listened to him when he spoke and never made him feel bad for talking so much. Akira made him feel heard. 

Akira looked at him, a look in his eyes Ryuji had never seen. The dread in his stomach froze and plunged deeper into his nerves and Akira swallowed roughly before finally speaking. 

“Goro,” was the first word out of his mouth and Ryuji had to strain for the rest of the story through his heart thundering to loud in his ears. He had called him  _ Goro _ . 

_ Goro  _ had apparently opened the very depths of his soul to Akira just the other day. Ryuji knew they were hanging out, some upscale bakery that Akira said he’d take him to someday. Ryuji spent the entire night distractedly playing video games wondering what the fuck they were up too. 

They were playing the trauma game apparently and Akechi did not hold back. Akira looked far away as he retold the story. The death of his mother and the years of loneliness that followed, the anger in Akechi’s eyes when he mentioned his deadbeat father that Akira described so vividly Ryuji could see it. Goro Akechi, a bastard child, detective prince and untrustable enigma. The entire time Akira’s voice was soft, warmer everytime he said Akechi’s first name. Ryuji doesn’t know why it bothered him so much.

He did. He just didn't want to admit it.

Akira said Akechi’s name the same way he did Ryuji’s.

Tenderly.

Ryuji wanted to throw up. 

He doesn't remember how the rest of the conversation went. Probably with him saying something along the lines of “that's really rough, let's go home,” because he was feeling one to many things. He felt sympathy for Akechi, how couldn't he. He also kinda wanted one of those spotlights to fall on Akechi’s head on his next interview. 

They go home. Ryuji doesn’t sleep over.

They don't really talk about it again. 

They don't get the chance because Okumura has a heart attack on live television and they watch wearing animal ear headbands. 

———

They try to be there for Haru as much as they can, as they lay low and try to figure out just what the fuck went wrong.

What the fuck did they do different? How could they have fucked up this bad?

Ryuji didn’t know. Couldn’t wrap his head around it and often woke up hoping it had all been a horrible dream. They all felt crushingly responsible, how could they not? Still he knew, it was probably nothing compared to how Akira and Haru felt. 

It didn’t take much coaxing, he didn’t need any convincing or long talk about his feelings for Ryuji to be crawling into bed alongside Akira again. Running his fingers through familiar curls as Akira clutched onto Ryuji and cried. 

He sobbed and gasped and talked himself hoarse through it all. Most of it completely incomprehensible, Ryuji often caught what sounded like the name “Igor” but he wasn’t sure if he actually heard it or Akira was hiccuping. Still Ryuji held him through it, crying a few tears of his own into midnight dark hair. 

Akira crying was rare. So rare Ryuji often joked his tears probably held healing powers that could be sold if they ever caught one. He didn’t shed a single tear when telling them about the man that had falsely accused him. Nor when explaining how his parents sent him away without even bothering to hear his side. He didn't cry when he took the worst beatings in the metaverse. 

Akira didn’t cry but when he did Ryuji carried him through it. Grounded him and helped him clean his face afterwards, telling him it’s okay the whole way through. 

They spent a few days like that, heads low and updated by Makoto or Haru. Trying to stay away from what was being said about them in the media. 

But Ryuji felt like he couldn’t look away. Like a car crash on the side of the road. 

They were being labeled criminals. Some were still defending them but that was one every hundred comments. The entire time they were trying to figure out where they went wrong, Goro Akechi was back on their fucking ass again.

Popularity boosting yet again. All his previous claims proven! There he is! Shining prince of justice Goro fucking Akechi, on every screen to ever exist in Japan. 

In equal measure their previous sentiment of keeping him at arm's length swiftly returned to fighting him on sight. 

But neither Ryuji or Akira had seen him around. No chance meetings at the station or late hangouts in bakeries. 

Until his interview in defense of them came out. Ryuji was sure he was dreaming then. Did Goro “I want to execute the Phantom Thieves” Akechi just defend them? On national television? What the fuck is going on?

**Group: group therapy thieves**

Akira had changed the name. It felt appropriate. 

**Ryuji:**

**is anyone else watching this shit**

**From: Makoto**

**This shit being the newest Akechi interview? yeah.**

**Ryuji:**

**???? what the fuck is happening**

**From: Ann**

**i don’t fucking know i’m still gonna beat the shit out of him when i see him**

**From: Yusuke**

**Second that.**

**From: Futaba**

**this is all, really strange.**

**Ryuji:**

**It’s weird as shit**

**From: Makoto**

**well technically he was just defending his “justice” he just doesn’t think it’s fair for us to be prosecuted without complete proof**

**Ryuji:**

**that’s practically sucking our dick. look how mad everyone is at him for saying that.**

**From: Ann**

**god people do really hate us huh**

**From: Kira**

**think this is gonna do us any good mako?**

**From: Makoto**

**i’m thinking.**

**From: Kira**

**Me too.**

**From: Ann**

**oooo mom and dad are scheming**

Ryuji had to miserably count countless ballots with Goro Akechi’s name written on it (some with hearts surrounding it) before that scheme finally grew in Makoto’s head. 

“Oh let’s open this one, anyone wanna take a guess of what it might say?” Ryuji announced, sarcasm flooding his body as he held up the folded card like a game show host.

“Hmmm, can I have a hint?” Akira asked, pretending to ponder the answer. Beside him Ann laughed and Makoto sighed as she continued to count. 

“But of course, the hint is,” he brought one hand to his chin and his voice up a few octaves. “I have made several investigations and all my brilliant deductions all point and conclude to the irrefutable fact that I am a complete, asshole.”

“Goro Akechi!”

“Correct!”

Ann had completely dissolved into laughter as Akira whooped and celebrated, Makoto was laughing softly too.

“You've had your fun, can we get back to counting?” she said once they had calmed down.

“Do we have to? When we know who’s gonna fucking win?” Ryuji sighed, opening three different ballots all saying the same thing.

Makoto sighed as well, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “It’s kinda insane how many people voted for him, I haven't seen a single ballot for someone else.”

They rolled their eyes at that, of course, the entire Japanese population wanted an audience with their prince. Disappointed, not surprised.

“I voted for Hatsune Miku,” Akira said, sounding so earnestly defeated at the fact she wouldn’t win, Ryuji couldn't help the laugh that ripped through him. Akira’s eyes gleamed with pride at that and Makoto let out another deep sigh. He made a note to buy her something to make up for dealing with them. 

He takes back his plan to get her a gift when she actually invites Akechi for the festival. Not that he was actually expecting her to change the ballots completely like he suggested but for real? Like really? Gross. 

They spend their time being paranoid and really sticking to their “Simple Student Life” act. Waste their time and break that act by sitting at Ann’s class booth and talk about Thieve’s shit. Really you'd think they’d learned their lesson when Makoto had first caught them but no. It was fine and well, Ryuji had actually started to enjoy himself. He always loved being together with all of them. Until the familiar clicks of heels and auburn eyes came into view. Next to him Akira tensed, well the entire table did. So much for not being suspicious. 

Akechi just kinda talked at them. Eyes glancing and evaluating every single one of them while his mouth never let up that pleasant smile of his. Insufferable, he had completely destroyed the mood. Ryuji tried to ignore him and all his baiting comments, keyword  _ tried _ because he felt Haru’s small hand on his own when he moved to stand. God bless that little woman and all her grace. 

Then his mood lifts sky high when Akechi eats the spicy ball of fire that he completely helped himself too. He can just barely hold himself together and refuses to glance at Yusuke, knowing he’d completely crack if they met eyes. They watch, entranced, as Akechi struggles and sweats. It's absolutely fantastic. 

Their good mood barely lasts once again. No amount of the detective choking on spicy dough could make up for the absolute panic they felt during that Q&A session. If one could even call it that.

It was more extremely thinly veiled threats and they were all looking at each other with questioning glances. Ryuji holds in the “I told you so” he wants to let out because, he fucking told them this was a bad idea.

They're all cramped in the tiny classroom. Tensions sky high once again and no one is really sure how to react when Akechi reveals the picture of them coming in and out of the metaverse. Well fuck.

“Wonderful photoshop skills, really talented.” Ryuji says, shit excuse but really what else can he say? Next to him Yusuke scoffs.

“There’s no point in trying to deny it,” Akechi smirks and Ryuji wants to hit him.

“And yet here we are, denying it so,” he replies and really wants to hit him when Akechi only laughs in return. That same pretentious laugh from their first meeting. 

“Either way-“

“What do you want Akechi?” Akira interrupts him and from the corner of his eye he can see the rest of them stand up straight at Akira’s tone.

Akechi smiles, sickeningly sweet. “I want to make a deal.” 

“Can’t we just beat him up,” Ann whispers and Makoto shushes her before Ryuji gets a chance to agree. 

“A deal?” Akira says, eyes shining with an intrigue that seems so out of place without his shining mask on his face. 

“What's your offer?” Morgana pitches in and Akechi’s eyes go comically wide. Something nags Ryuji at the back of his mind but he doesn’t focus on it.

“Yeah he does that, now the offer?” Akira says, his voice is cold and Akechi composed himself to meet his attitude head on. He proposes his deal, or rather,  _ blackmail.  _

As the point of blackmail, they have no choice.

They’re backed into a corner and Goro Akechi is holding all the cards. 

Is probably what their dear detective and new teammate thought as he left the room. Smug and victorious. Ryuji really wishes he had hit him. 

They stay behind a few seconds, giving each other looks full of questions and frustration, before leaving to watch the rest of the conference. Everyone except him and Akira who stops him with a hand on his wrist. By default Morgana as well.

“I’m totally down to just go the fuck home if you’re offering dude,” he starts, trying to allievate the tension still in the air left by Akechis words.

Akira smiles a bit, but his eyes are wide and bright, mind seeming to be working a mile a minute. 

“So you noticed it too?” Morgana says and Ryuji just grows confused when Akira nods. 

“Noticed what? That Akechis even more of a dick than we thought? So much for that budding friendship,” Ryuji scoffs as he kicks at the floor. He wonders how long Akechi had known, how many days he spent talking to Akira and him just trying to get information. Was he even as lonely as Ryuji previously thought? How much of it was an act? Ryuji didn’t know and Morgana's cryptic questions weren’t helping.

“He heard Morgana,” Akira said, Ryuji could tell he was trying to make sense of things in his head as he spoke. 

“Yeah he admitted he got a fucking persona recently, apparently they’re just giving these things out to anyone huh?”

“No, he heard me the first day we met him.” 

“Huh?” 

Akira explains it all to him, then, with Morgana's incessant interruptions. Explains how Akechi  _ had _ heard Morgana at the TV station, meaning he'd already been in the metaverse, meaning that Akechi was lying about his recent Persona discovery. Meaning things were about to get, so much messier. 

“We need to see his Persona,” Akira said, “His mask.” 

Ryuji nodded and gulped. Thinking of all the possible outcomes that could come from this new development. 

“Do you think it’s him?” He asked, couldn’t help himself. Akira didn’t say anything, just looked into Ryuji’s eyes with a sadness that said he hoped not. 

“I don’t want to be right,” Akira admitted, voice a whisper and so charged with emotion. 

“For once, I hope you’re wrong and Akechi’s just an asshole, not a murdering asshole,” he tries to joke but it doesn’t come out, Akira spares him a short chuckle anyways. 

They don’t go back to the festival, they hole up in Lablanc where Akira sits at his desk and makes lock picks and strategizes. Ryuji was never good at just sitting around, he pulls his sneakers from their borrowed home under Akira’s couch. They’re his spare pair that just stayed after Ryuji's third sleepover. 

“I’ll be back,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of Akira’s head. 

“Be careful,” Akira replies, Ryuji nods, skin already buzzing with excitement for his run. He stretches in the afternoon sun outside of Leblanc before taking off running. He’s nowhere near his top speed, hasn’t been since Kamoshida, but it never stopped feeling good. 

That was something he got back when Akira came into his life. The same freedom he felt when he ran miles and miles. Pulling through his veins and every pore of his being was freedom. 

He ran when he was bored, to raise his endurance and to get rid of his stress. The coming weeks saw him running so much more.

Akechi had joined the Phantom Thieves. At least momentarily. That’s something he never saw coming. 

**Group: fuck the police gang**

Yusuke has changed the name. It probably wasn’t appropriate but really, no one cared.

**From: Kira:**

**someone care 2 explain where the fuck morgana is?**

**Ryuji:**

**lol is he missing? good.**

**From: Kira**

**he isn’t at home so**

**From: Kira**

**????**

**From: Kira**

**Haru give him back**

**From: Haru**

**I have no idea what youre talking about.**

**From: Kira**

**HARU**

**From: Goro “Bitch” Akechi**

**I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to confirm where we are meeting up tomorrow to discuss.**

**From: Yusuke**

**god the punctuation**

**From: Kira**

**@ Leblanc at like 2 because i’m gonna be asleep till then lol**

**From: Haru**

**Morgana says you shouldn’t sleep in so late it’s not healthy.**

**From: Kira**

**GIVE HIM BACK**

Goro Akechi joins the Phantom Thieves and they annoy him with his antics. It’s enough revenge for the moment. 

Having Akechi around more often felt like it always did, strange and foreign and super fucking weird. Especially with knowing what they did. It was hard not to evaluate all his moves and words in search for ulterior motives. They were trying to beat Akechi at his games, despite not knowing what game he was fucking playing. It was annoying, to say the least. 

His plan of targeting Sae Nijima was smart, though Ryuji was loathed to admit it. Mainly because Akechi had been overwhelmingly smug when explaining his plans. He was really pushing his luck with how he smiled over Akira’s shoulder, gloves hands on the back of his chair. 

The decision was as unanimous as it can be when you’re being blackmailed, Makoto agreed, despite how distant her voice seemed. Ryuji never got over just how strong Makoto was, along with her brains and heart. He wondered if her sister's palace would reflect that in any way.

Needless to say he was not prepared for the dazzling casino that appeared before them. All neon lights and diamonds beckoning them with the siren call of slots and shuffling cards. 

“It's really pretty,” he breathed out when they saw it, “Is that weird to say about a palace?” he asked no one in particular but Akechi answered because he’s annoying and horribly unaware about that fact. 

“I don't see why you can't comment on its aesthetics, i haven’t experienced other palaces, I assume they are less... bright?” He said, and Ryuji looked over and rolled his eyes. 

“It certainly is striking, are you alright Makoto?” Yusuke said, in favor of disregarding Akechi completely and from the corner of his eye he saw Akechi deflate. 

“I’m fine it’s just, seeing it makes it all so real. She really does have a palace, this is what she thinks of the courthouse,” Makoto's voice was low, her brows furrowed together as she tried to take the gleaming building all in. 

“Let’s find an entrance, you guys ready?” Akira said, sounding more and more like Joker with each word.

“Let’s roll, guys,” Ryuji said, walking in step with Ann who was holding onto his arm and pointing at all the signs and windows. They found their infiltration point fairly easily, stepping inside and instantly engulfed in the feeling of their outfits changing. Ryuji touched his face, feeling the hard bones that shaped his face like second skin. 

“We’re already considered a threat?” Ann gasped out, thumbing with the whip at her side. 

“Can’t ever do things the easy way huh,” he huffed and looked around the group, doing a double take at the very obvious white suit that stuck out among them.

Akechi was a  _ prince _ . Decked out head to toe in golds and whites, scarlett red cape seemed to glow, all seamlessly going together with the polished red of his mask. 

“You really are a crow huh?” he said, going to poke the sharp tip of it but Ann batted away his hands with a ‘tsk.’ His eyes caught Akira’s, who had been looking at Akechi’s outfit as well.

It’s not a black mask. 

He let out a very confused sigh of relief. If he’s not black mask, then who the fuck was? And what's Akechi’s entire game plan? 

“You really are a skull,” he smirked back and Ryuji was already over this entire day.

“Let’s keep going guys, and you better keep up Crow,” Akira said, heels clicking as he walked in front of them. God, Akira looked fantastic in black.

“I certainly plan on impressing you all, Joker,” Akechi replied, full of sultry overconfidence. 

“Well certainly see about,” Yusuke said, tail swishing as they finally began their infiltration. 

It was only a few minutes before Akechi showed just how impressive he truly was. The show off. 

Robin Hood was as golden and grand as Akechi. Delivering blows so gracefully and harshly it made Ryuji dizzy. He took down shadows like it was nothing, barely breaking a sweat, voice loud with command that teetered on  _ mad _ . 

The entire display only made things clearer and more confusing. It was extremely hard to believe he had only recently gotten his powers. It was also obvious he was extremely powerful. 

Just what exactly are they up against? Ryuji wondered and with the way Akira’s eyes kept catching his own, they were thinking the same thing. 

They got through the dice game, with Futaba rigging the game in their favor, before calling it a day. The glamour of the casino had worn off really fast and now all the flashing lights were just working to give him a damn headache. They parted ways once the metaverse melted into reality, Haru gently taking Makoto’s hands as they walked away. Goodbyes were shared and plans discussed as now they had to work around Akechi’s celebrity schedule. 

As soon as Akechi was out of sight Akira pulled Futaba and him closer, pushing their heads together in a very not suspicious conspiratory way.

“May I help you sir?” Futaba said, readjusting her glasses.

“Do we have to be this close?”

“You’re literally my boyfriend, yes, and I need a favor from you Futaba,” Akira responded and Futaba completely lit up in that weird, gremlin way of hers.

“What’s in it for me?” 

“All of our lovely Crow’s secrets,” he replied, a wolffish smile splitting his face. 

“Say no more.” 

Akira pulled out his phone as they continued their walk home. Futaba was talking a mile a minute, all about how she was absolutely starving and couldn’t wait to get back home. Morgana shared her sentiments, bringing up the sushi he never received. 

**group: detectives r just nosy hoes**

**From: Kira**

**hope all my teammates are doing well, resting, miss u all**

**Yusuke:**

**You literally just saw us**

**Ryuji:**

**me and futaba r still with you??**

**From: Kira**

**n e ways, big news and by big i mean the usual, as we all know Akechi is one shady character**

**From; Yusuke**

**that’s one way of putting it**

**From: Kira**

**hm,, next time we all meet i’m having futaba hack his phone, see if we get lucky and figure out just what his deal is**

**From: Makoto**

**How exactly is she gonna do that? Doesn’t she physically need the phone?**

**Ryuji:**

**We just fucking rob him**

**From: Yusuke**

**i’m game**

**Futaba:**

**oohooohoo i have my ways. consider it done.**

**From: Makoto**

**Terrifying. But okay.**

**From: Akira**

**weird way of spelling GENIUS.**

  
  


Futaba's ways were certainly,  _ Futaba.  _ Ryuji barely held back a loud laugh watching Akechi struggle with asking for his phone back politely as Futaba messed and pretended to geek out over it. It was over in less than a minute though, Futuba throwing a thumbs up behind her back when it was done. Akira laughed and patted her head in pride.

They made it to the High Limit floor finally. No one held back their groans at seeing the other games they had no choice in participating in. 

The maze was first. The complete lack of visibility shouldn’t have completely surprised them but there they were. Ryuji liked to imagine they all had the same shocked look as he did, since, he couldn’t fucking see any of them. 

“Single file line time guys,” Akira sighed, “Hold on to a coat tail or something.” 

Ryuji would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so over the entire situation. He felt Morgana bump into his legs and bent over to pick him up and place him on his shoulders. It went about as smoothly as a road with unfilled potholes. 

“Stop struggling it's easier like this Mona,” He yelled, he felt a claw in his upper arm, the little demon.

“Put me down!” He yowled and squirmed and Ryuji wondered how he balanced that fucking head of his as he made a scene. 

“Mona let him, it will make moving easier,” Akira finally put his foot down, Ryuji could hear the way he was rubbing his hands over his eyes. 

Morgana only huffed and put his two paws on Ryujis ears and held on.

“I’m not a fucking handle bar.” 

“Skull, we’re moving.” Akechi told him to shut up without saying it, Ryuji wondered how he could trip him without taking the blame. It is horribly dark after all. 

Ryuji had Ann’s whip wrapped around his hand, holding and tugging when direction was giving. His other hand held onto Yusuke’s tail, tugging just because it was funny to him. Akira and Akechi were leading the group, something that had just  _ happened  _ naturally as they got through the earlier games and floors. 

Akechi often taking lead despite not needing to. Akira never said anything about it though. He wondered if it was a relief to have someone in charge for once. Going by the way Akira’s face pinched and angered minutely when Akechi did, he didn’t bet on it.

Akechi was also unbearably close to Akira. Pressed together in corners when they were hiding, running attached at the hip or breathing down his back when they searched rooms. Maybe it’s the fucking outfit making Akechi bold but Akira never moved away. Ryuji chalked it up to being focused on the task at hand and  _ nothing _ else. 

He was lost in his thoughts when he bumped into Yusuke’s back, causing a chain reaction after Ann bumped into him. 

“Ouch, what the fuck’s going on?” he whispered, loudly. 

“I sincerely hope that’s your mace in your pocket and you’re not happy to see me,” Yusuke replied.

“I fucking hate you.” 

“Sorry guys I’m pretty sure we’ve already come this way,” Akira’s voice carried from the front and the rest of them groaned. Probably too loud to be safe but fuck? For real? 

“Do you think they could be manipulating the walls?” He heard Haru ask from somewhere in the dark. 

“I wouldn’t put it past her, we should find something off the map we could go through,” Akechi’s voice came next along with an agreeing hum from Akira. 

“There might be a vent we could use, Futaba said, the faint glow of her goggles the only light they had. Barely. “In the main section, to the left.” 

Akira started to move again and Ryuji’s pretty sure the idiot nodded despite none of them being able to see him. 

Their trek through the void continued, shadows here and there. Fighting shadows in the dark was about as terrifying as it sounded. Lit up only by the blazing blue of Akechi’s sabor, Ann’s whip cracking wisps of fire and his own blows connecting with rays of lightning too bright in the pitch darkness. 

It looked like the most low budget EDM concert ever. 

They eventually came to the vent, the area softly lit by the blinking candy colored lights over several entrances. It was in the soft red and blue haze of those lights Ryuji finally caught a glance at Akira. It felt like a breath of fresh air almost, being able to discern his cheekbones and the highlights of his curls. The lights landed purple on his dark suit, the contours of his arms and legs a hazy violet, the white glove that wrapped around his arm and settled on his bicep a brighter shade of it. The breath of fresh air turned to ice in his lungs.

That’s how they’d been this entire time? That’s how Akechi was managing not to get fucking lost in this maze? Latching onto Akira, long gloved fingers digging into the meat of the arms Ryuji has been in not even hours ago. 

Ryuji tripped Akechi on his way into the vent, placing Morgana in Haru’s hands and heading inside behind Akira. 

“Oh my bad dude,” was all he said before crawling away. 

They made it to the end of the maze. Ryuji’s hands holding Akira’s. Yellow and red clashing against the casino. They held hands the entire way to the battle arena, despite no longer needing too, sight finally regained. 

“The rules are one on one,” the ugly shadow attendant explained. 

“Of fucking course it is, why wouldn’t it be,” he replied and Akira just nodded along with him.

“Well it’s fairly obvious who we have to send in, so Joker are you ready?” Akechi said plainly, hands on cocked hips as he looked at Akira expectantly. 

“Hold on a minute,” he started with Makoto also speaking at the same time.

“Excuse me?” 

Akechi had the decency to look taken aback. “What? He’s able to harness multiple persona’s. Statistically he has a much higher chance than us to be able to win.” 

Well, he had a point. 

“And if he doesn’t?” Makoto pointed out.

She also had a point.

“I believe in him,” Akechi stated. Blatant and probably for the first time ever, honest. Not that Ryuji would bet on that. “If anyone can do this, it’s joker.” 

There wasn’t much debate after that. Akira nodded and paid his chips to the shadow. Turning around to look at them once more. 

“Be back in a few,” he smirked, cocky bastard. Ryuji could never get enough of him. 

“Go get ‘em!”

“My moneys on you, Joker.” Akechi said at the same time. 

Akira sent them both a smile. Ryuji could only bear to smile back. 

They watched from the seats they’d been provided. Not enough so laps were being shared between Haru and Makoto, Morgana and Futaba practically hanging from the rail to be able to see. Ryuji sat at the stairs closest to the arena, getting a good view of Akira as he entered. Akechi sat next to him too. 

No matter how many times he witnessed Akira fight, it never got boring. Every moment exhilarating as the blue flames that surrounded him with every call of a new persona. 

They cheered loudly for him, he saw Akira glancing around in the crowd above for them. He knew he wouldn’t be able to see them. Akechi raised his hand in a small wave anyways. Ryuji’s stomach twisted.

Then his stomach somersaulted seeing the shadow Akira was up against.

“No way this is fucking fair!”

He heard other cries in agreement with him come from above him. 

“Did you seriously believe it would be?” Akechi asked next to him, even had the nerve to scoff at him too.

“I knew it wouldn’t be fair but that’s just fucking overkill!” he yelled, pointing at the fucking building of a shadow he was up against. 

“He can handle it,” was all the comfort Akechi offered, cut off by the starting bell.

No matter how many times he watched Akira fight, it was never less frightening. One miscalculated move and it would all be over. Ryuji was good at not letting his fear get the best of him in a fight, keeping the others afloat when things seemed too drastic. But now Akira was out there alone, and Ryuji had never felt more scared. 

He cheered because how could he not? Despite the pure panic in his body he wouldn’t let it show. He cheered when Akira dodged and hissed when he didn’t. Still Akira was doing good, he couldn’t deny the blessing that was. 

Next to him Akechi was watching him, and had been throwing glances at him when he thought Ryuji was too distracted to notice. He caught his eye in one of his attempts and Ryuji turned towards him, questions already on his tongue.

“You really care for him don’t you?” Akechi said first, before he could even form his words. It caught him off gaurd, he wasn’t sure what Akechi was going to say but it sure as fuck was not that. Akechi’s face was different, even behind the mask Ryuji could tell. He seemed embarrassed and genuinely curious, there was no malice in his question. His eyes were filled with something Ryuji couldn’t place. 

“Yes, more than anything,” he replied, earnestly. He didn’t have it in him to be mean to Akechi, despite everything, not when Akechi was looking at him like that. 

Akechi gave him a nod and Ryuji had no idea what the fuck that was supposed to mean but he didn’t push it. 

Below them Akira dodged and landed a sickening blow, the crowd booed, he heard the others yelling.

“So do I.” 

Ryuji thought he had imagined it. After all it was overwhelmingly loud in the arena and Akechi had been staring straight forward. But he caught sight at the way Akechi’s fingers nervously rubbed against each other and how his eyes looked at anywhere but him and knew he had said it. 

He thought about simply ignoring it. Pretend Akechi was not baring his soul to him right at this moment and move on. But Ryuji wasn’t cruel. And Ryuji knew, had always known, even if he never wanted to admit it.

“I know.” He said it softly, as if trying not to spook a shaking child. He’d seen the look on Akechi’s face on his own months ago. Every time he’d daydream of Akira, everytime they hung out, everytime Akira kissed him dearly. He knew. 

Beneath the mask Akechi looked terribly conflicted. A mixture of surprise, relief and  _ grief _ struck his gentle features. Ryuji didn’t know what that meant.

But below them Akira had won, and as confetti rained down Ryuji finally placed the look in Akechi’s eyes.

_ Yearning.  _

They never talked about it again. Never got the chance too. Two day’s later Futaba called them, urgent and scared. Without having to be told, he knew it was about Akechi.

One phone call. 

All his worries were solidified. 

They’d caught Akechi. Figured out his true intentions. 

“And the great leader of the Phantom Thieves will end his own life.” Akechi’s recorded words came through the speaker, cruel and cold. Undeniably him, speaking so casually in a way Ryuji had never heard. 

He was planning on killing Akira. Had been planning it all along.

Ryuji remembers the battle arena and tries to understand. He had seemed so sincere, so afraid in that moment of complete honesty. How could he have been planning this all along? 

The phone call revealed other factors. Like Akechi was working for someone, someone powerful and now they were up against a threat completely unknown. 

One phone call. Goro Akechi had once again turned their lives upside down.

He’d never been more grateful to the group of friends he had until that moment. They didn’t let one second go to waste, spending more time planning than sparing any to be shocked.

Though they wouldn’t say it, no one wanted to believe it either. 

But it was there. Proof, horrible, undeniable truth. 

Goro Akechi was a murderer. After Akira’s life.

They planned and planned. For the first time in a while it wasn’t just Ryuji sleeping in the attic, they all took any corner, cramming together as they talked well into the hours of the morning from their sleeping bags. 

As the sun rose they had a game plan. The morning rays cast halos on Akira’s skin. Ryuji kissed them away, praying to whatever god that was listening that things went right. 

Akira had taken the reveal in a stride that was kinda unbelievable. Barely reacting to the phone call and Akechi’s voice. 

Only breaking his stoic silence to say one thing. 

“He’s working for someone.” 

The others nodded, Makoto's face scrunching up as she tried to think of who it might be, to no avail.

“He’s killing for someone.” The words were heavy. 

They didn’t know what to say.

“So the nineteenth huh? Taking the word deadline to heart this time huh?” Akira said and Ann threw a pillow at him. It was deserved.

They had secured their infiltration route already so there was a true need for them to see Akechi. But they had to keep up appearances. Ryuji opted out immediately and no one stopped him. He didn’t trust himself not to fucking explode and ruin everything when seeing him. 

The nineteenth was only a few day’s away. They could do this. They had too. 

As the days passed, Ryuji ran. More than he ever had and it never felt like enough. He was always left with energy to burn no matter how his legs ached and sweat dripped down his neck and back. He couldn’t stop. 

He ran whenever he could, Akira joining him when he could. Sitting in the grass as Ryuji ran laps, waiting for him in Leblanc with water and fruits. Like he had since the beginning. Ryuji wished he could go back to those summer days. Wished he could get Akechi’s sick voice out of his head. 

It replayed at all hours of the day. His plan, the ice in his voice and laugh. Then the tenderness of his whispered confession in the arena would follow. Swirling and colliding in Ryuji's head. They were both so different Ryuji could hardly believe it was all Akechi. 

He didn’t know which one was the real one. 

The words stayed in his head until the nineteenth dawned on them. They ran through the plan one more time, knowing they would do the same thing tomorrow.

Ryuji was running. Akira said he wanted to be alone and while Ryuji didn’t want to leave him alone, he obliged. Leaving Akira making tools he wouldn’t need at his desk with a soft kiss goodbye.

His eyes caught Morgana’s who nodded in return to the silent question he was asking.

_ I’ll watch over him. _

He ran until the sky turned dark blue, stars twinkling through the scattered clouds and his phone buzzed with his mother asking him where he was. He’d go home soon he told her, as he didn’t move from his spot. 

He watched the clouds sway. Tried not to think about anything and was interrupted by his phone ringing again. He sighed bringing it up to his ear.

“I’m on my way mom, I promise. Calm down,” he sighed.

“Please don’t ever call me mom again,” Akira’s amused voice came from the other side.

“Oh fuck, haha sorry moms been up my ass today thought you were her,” he said a bit sheepish at the mistake. “What’s up ‘Kira?”

“You should go home though it’s late,” he replied, ignoring the question.

“I’m in the process of doing that, now tell me what's up?” 

It was silent for a bit Ryuji almost checked if the call dropped. 

“Akechi came by,” Akira said, sounding more winded than Ryuji.

“Oh?” was all he could think to say.

“Hm,” Akira paused, he heard the shuffling sheets as he got into bed. “It was weird. It felt weird.”

Ryuji wanted to mention yeah, he’s planning to kill you, things have understandably been  _ weird. _

“I thought I knew him,” Is all Akira says and Ryuji understood what he meant. Still he could tell Akira had more to say.

“He came, he wanted to play chess, said he was feeling restless. I wanted to ask him if it’s because he was gonna kill me tomorrow but refrained. I’m sure Makoto would be proud,” Ryuji spared a laugh despite how unfunny their situation was. “We played. I won. He seemed relieved? Proud? I don’t know.” There’s a longer pause then as if Akira was remembering something, he can hear Akira’s breathing picking up on the other end and the tale tells of sniffling that revealed he was crying. “I just, I thought I knew him, Ryuji,” he cried, voice breaking and so small it broke Ryuji’s heart. 

Without breaking stride he changed directions, straight back to the station, where he hoped the last trains were still running. 

“I’m coming to you,” he said, huffing as he pushed his legs to run again. Through the phone he heard Akira laugh and it took the pain in his legs completely away. His mom was only slightly angry at him when he texted her letting him know of his impromptu detour. 

“Doors unlocked you can come in,” Akira sniffled but he sounded calmer than he had a few minutes before.

When Ryuji finally makes it, legs on fire and breathing hard, he lets himself right in. He thinks he can still catch traces of Akechi’s flowery perfume interlaced with the aroma of coffee and curry. He holds his breath until he has Akira in his arms. Morgana against their ribs between them, tail flicking softly against Akira’s legs as a form of comfort. 

Akira cried softly, steadily. Cried because he needed too, releasing a pain he’d been harboring since they’d figured Akechi out for who he is. Ryuji held him through it, like he always did. Like he always would. His cries trailed off into soft breaths against Ryuji’s arm, face moist but no longer crying. Regaining his composure as he made himself comfortable to sleep. They didn't say anything, didn't need to. 

Outside the moon hung low, bright and its light casting shadows across the wooden floor. The weather had dropped, frost starting to appear on the window. Akira was warm in his arms.

He thought of Akechi. Wondered if he was getting any sleep that night. 

  
  


Ryuji and Yusuke carried the completely empty briefcase between them. It dangled as Ryuji squatted and stretched next to him. The fight against Nijima was a hassle, with her continuing to cheat until she turned into a nightmare. The end of the fight only meant the beginning of the real one. Ryuji had no real need to be going through his warm ups. His leg doesn't hurt in the metaverse, But he’s thrumming with nervous energy, Yusuke doesn’t comment on it. 

“We should make our way back,” is all he says, Ryuji stands and they walk back to the main room. They shared a look as they walked back in,  _ Showtime. _

“Got the treasure, time to bounce.” He said through a smile with too much teeth. 

Akira nodded and next to him Futaba started fidgeting. 

“Hold on, what are these readings?” She said, worried and confused. What a brilliant little actor she was turning out to be. 

“What’s going on?” Akechi asked, as if he didnt know, and Ryuji fought the impulse to punch him in the face. It had been hard, seeing him again. Ryuji didn't talk to him, leaving the others to fill that silence which they did. Blessedly. Knowing what Akechi was didn't make it any easier to read him, he was still pompous, an asshole. Yet he comforted Makoto before their fight with her sister began. Ryuji kept reminding himself not to think too much about it. There was already too much going on in the first place. 

They panicked, and thankfully Ann didn't sound completely stiff for once. Akechi still looked oblivious, probably internally celebrating that they were eating out of the palm of their hand. They decided to split, Akira dramatically grabbed the briefcase and told them to go. 

“Be careful,” all but Akechi said. 

Ryuji was the last out of the room, reaching a hand into unruly curls and kissing Akira breathless, for what may very well be the last time. He didn't want to focus on that. Akira kissed him back just as fiercely and Ryuji never wanted to let go.

“See you in a bit,” Akira whispered into his lips and Ryuji smiled. 

“Make it sooner,” He replied before turning and joining the others in their escape. 

Akechi is quiet the whole run, focused and intense. Ryuji is thankful for it. 

They watch Akira twirl in the air, surrounded by coloured glass and the beaming moonlight. He looked beautiful. He held back on screaming when he saw the police force that waited for them, Ann held his hand in a death grip when Akira fell and was finally caught. 

“We need to go,” Makoto said, sternly bringing them back to themselves. “He’ll be okay.” 

Ryuji wanted to believe her. Distantly, he was aware that Akechi was no longer with them. No one commented on that. 

The minute they return to the real world they disperse, too many police around for their liking. They needed to start acting like regular teenagers asap. Ryuji walks the familiar road to central street. He’d planned to roam the streets until they got the news. His feet ache. He doesn’t stop. 

  
  


**Group: fuck the police and detectives**

**From: Makoto**

**Roll call.**

**From: Ann**

**Stress eating, but all clear.**

**From: Yusuke**

**Stress painting but same**

**From: Haru**

**I have to meet with this asshole but other than that, clear**

**From: Yusuke**

**Y havent we actually beat the shit out of him yet??**

**From: Haru**

**Idk, let's put that on the calendar.**

**From: Makoto**

**Futaba?**

**From: Futaba**

**Here, trying to keep calm.**

**From: Makoto**

**Ok just making sure.**

**Ryuji:**

**Stress.**

**From: Makoto**

**Stay safe, we’ll know soon.**

  
  


Soon did not come soon enough but when it did, it hit all at once. The breaking news alert and the immediate buzz of the “Suicide of The Phantom Thief Leader” lit up the crowds on the street.

Holy shit it fucking worked. 

They got him. 

Akira arrived at Leblanc a few hours later. He was immediately wrapped in their arms and they jumped up and down in glee. Behind them Sae and Sojira shook their heads endearingly. Ryuji couldn't keep his hands to himself as they explained the whole scheme to Sae and Sojiro, so he played with Akira’s fingers and ran them through his hair. Ecstatic that it worked, that Akira was here. In the back of his mind he wondered where Akechi was. Rubbing his gloved hands together with a white cat in his lap maybe. 

They celebrated that night, well into the hours of the morning. Mood completely opposite from the last time they had stayed up that late together. Maybe its because in the back of their minds they all knew there was still a lot of work to do, without knowing where to actually start. 

As most things that happened to them, their next move ended up practically falling in their laps. Bald headed and megaphone toting Shido Masayoshi. The very bastard that had practically ruined Akira’s life in the first place.

Buzz about the shocking suicide died way to quickily, it was almost eery. Instead broadcasts of Shido’s campaign and guaranteed win was all anyone talked about. That and Akechi, of course. He had given a lovely interview about the capture and end of the Phantom Thieves. It was an hour long jerk off session for Akechi and how great and wonderful he was. If only they knew is all he kept thinking. If only they knew the person Akechi really was. 

Sometimes he wondered if he even knew who Akechi was. 

Shido’s palace, if it could even be called that, was repulsive. In all its golden and ivory glory. Statues and banners and shadows just praising Shido for breathing. While the ship trembled every once in a while as it struck the sides of buildings outside. It was awful. 

The horns and Shido’s voice blared the entire time they got their letters. Ryuji wondered if there was anyway they could fucking turn it off but was turned down by everyone saying they didnt have any time for that. Too busy turning into fucking  _ rats  _ to change the repeating soundtrack of Shido’s propaganda. He was glad when they finally made it to the silent levels of the engine room, finally getting their last recommendation letter from the cleaner. 

“Aren't you cozy with the Yakuza, can you do something?” he had asked Akira while Yusuke aggressively painted below them.

“Ex - Yakuza, don't think he would be very helpful,” Akira shrugged. It wouldn't have mattered anyways because they ended up having to fight him too. Fights seemed to just be unavoidable. 

They were breathing hard and passing soda and snacks back and forth as they exited, ready to bring the five letters and beat the shit out of Shido. They didn't get that far. 

Fights seemed to just be unavoidable.

Akechi stood before them again. His bright suit colors similar to the pillars and floors of Shido’s ship. Eyes piercing and wild behind his mask, Ryuji couldn't help but think it didn't suit his royal get up. 

“I have to admit I’m impressed, you managed to deceive me,” Akechi sneered at them.

“You're not the only one who’s good at lying,” Ryuji says and Akechi scoffs and rolls his eyes. 

He continues to talk. Staying true to his nature of talking. So fucking much. Ryuji doesn't know why they're letting him talk this much when they could fully just beat the shit out of him and keep it moving. But Akechi continues to drop one bomb after another on them. Like the truth about his parents, about himself. He spit out the word “bastard” like it stung. Ryuji could imagine it probably did. He felt his pity and compassion for Akechi snaking up his ribs but then he was laughing, cackling at them, threatening them and stance ready for a fight.

“We know all your tricks from when you were with us, or did you forget that genius?” Ryuji spit at him. 

Akechi only laughed again and it boiled his already scalding blood. “Oh Joker,” he said, a soft teasing song and Akira tensed next to him. “How did you manage to get so successful with an idiot at your partner?” he smirked at them and Ryuji heard Akira’s gloves creaking as he tightened his fists. 

“You're going to regret that,” Akira stated. 

Akechi scowled, taken aback for a second before two shadows appeared behind him.

“Kill them,” he said simply, jumping out of the way as they began to fight. 

The shadows weren't anything they had not faced before even when Akechi suddenly powered them up.

“What the fuck was that?!” he called out after seeing an outlined figure appear behind Akechi.

“You know all my tricks don't you?” Akechi called back, his smile growing wider and crazier. 

“Stay focused guys,” Akira said, landing a finishing blow on the two shadows. 

It was then that Ryuji’s worst thoughts were made real. 

Loki.

He had known, obviously, that Akechi was a killer. A schemer and all around fucked up person. Still he never made the connection of Akechi to all the psychotic breakdowns and deaths that had been going on. He never wanted to make that connection. Even as all the evidence stood plain as day in his face. Admitting, proudly, to all his sins. 

‘Ill show you who I really am!’ He had screamed before calling for Loki. Persona’s were a reflection of your soul, of your rebellion. Loki was powerful, the air in the room changing, charged with an oppressive aura of fear. Nothing like the virtuous glow that Robin Hood gave. This was who Akechi really was? He didn't want to believe it. 

There’s no denying it though. Ryuji blinks a few times to check if he wasn't just imagining things but it's not. Goro Akechi was there, black mask and dark chains where his suit once was. It was heartbreaking and infuriating in equal parts. 

Akechi didn't hold back. Was really trying to make true his threat of killing them all one by one. More than once they took damaging blows that were meant for Akira for themselves. What he wasn't holding back for the rest of them, was being completely unleashed on Akira. His eyes never leave him no matter who he was hitting at the moment. His hatred for Akira seemed to be as strong as his adoration for him. In the end it's what destroys him.

He’s kneeling, striking trails of blood falling from his face through what remains of his cage-like mask. Wheezing as he tries to catch his breath. 

“You ready to call it quits?” Ryuji says, voice dripping with a concern that shouldn't be there.

“I've had enough,” Akechi gasps out and Ryuji winces at how broken Akechi sounds. “You're so lucky, to be surrounded by people who acknowledge you, by people who love you,” He addresses Akira, catching Ryuji’s eyes at the end. “You're going to be heroes.” He sighed, a sad smile on his lips, eyes wistful and full of pain. It snaps something in Ryuji.

“Enough of this fucking pity party, We’re acknowledging you, right now. We’ve always acknowledged you for the massive asshole you are. Now get the fuck up because we arent going to kill you.” He says and he ignores the wide eyes that are on him, staring directly at Akechi who was equally as shocked.

“You… are so stupid,” He replies and Akira exhales.

“You are in no position to call him that, I suggest you listen to him,” Akira practically commands.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I tried to kill you! Twice now! How are you letting me go?” Akechi screeched, voice unbelieving and eyes moving to each of their faces.

“I know you Goro,” Akira says and Akechi falls silent. “You can deny and act as much as you want but I’ve always known you. I never understood why you did what you did but now I do. You were alone. If I didn't have them, I don't know where I'd be.”

Ryuji doubted he’d be a murderer but he decided to keep his mouth shut for once and let him continue. Watching the way Akechi’s face contorts into one of pain. Trying to keep himself from crying. 

“I dont have the power to forgive you for all you’ve done,” Akira continues, Haru nods behind him. “But everything I can forgive, I already have.”

Akechi’s eyes were full of tears and conflict. Ryuji commends him for not completely breaking down yet because Ryuji was damn close too. He finally completely understood Akechi. Why his eyes always seemed so sad despite his smile. Why his smiles felt so rehearsed. Why that mask cracked everytime he was shown even the slightest bit of friendship. Desperate and so achingly lonely. Ryuji remembers the laugh Akechi gave him at the train station, the way he softly admitted he cared for Akira, the way he fought and screamed. All of his pain.

His life was ruined and turned inside out by the same disgusting human being as Akira. They were a pair in that sense, two sides of the same coin. He looked at Akira, heartbreak and hope in his beautiful eyes. He understood Akira too then. Why he always offered Akechi so much of his time, how kind he always was to him. The look in his eyes when he talked about Akechi. Akira had seen so much more of Akechi than Ryuji did. He wondered how much more Akechi laughed with him. Every single one genuine. He understood that despite it all, a bullet through his cognitive head. Akira had never stopped believing in Akechi. 

Ryuji moved to haul Akechi to his feet. Deciding for him that he was coming with them. They'll figure everything else out later but he figured Akechi deserved to at least beat his dad up. He was a foot away when Akechi’s voice called out to them. But it wasn't  _ Akechi. _

“Oh what the fuck?” he breathed out and below him Akechi laughed, staring at his cognitive. 

“That’s just fantastic,” Akechi mumbled as he stood back up, breathing hard and grunting from the exertion. The cognitive pointed his gun at him and it felt like all the air in the room disappeared. 

“Seriously?” he heard Akechi whisper. He sounded tired.

The cognitive was somehow even more snide and petty than the original. Calling Akechi a loser, telling him what his shit ass father thought of him and offering a way out if he killed Akira. His voice was so cold when he said it. Akechi didn't even sound like that on the recording talking about killing Akira. 

“This is your last chance,” The cognitive Akechi said, lazily as if he had better things to be doing. “Shoot him.” 

Akira was barely breathing next to him and the others were positioned ready to block and pull Akira away if things went even more south. 

“Goro,” Akira whispered and he saw Akechi shake. Before raising his gun straight at him.

Ryuji felt like he couldn't breathe as the cognitive rejoiced in Akechi’s decision.

“Oh don't misunderstand,” Akechi said, half smiling as his chest heaved. His eyes caught Ryuji’s, he smiled a bit wider. It was full of mirth and satisfaction, as if he was laughing at an inside joke he didn't know. “You're the one thats going to disappear!” He screamed and pulled the trigger twice.

The cognitive fell to his knees. 

The second bullet hit the switch behind them.

Ryuji took off running. 

It happened all at once and so slowly. As soon as Akechi was within reach he pulled him toward him. A surge of adrenaline helped him lug Akechi forward and onto him as the barrier came up. They fell at Akira’s feet. Behind the barrier he heard the shadows howling and scratching at the iron. 

He’d made it. Akechi was with them. Bleeding on Ryuji and laughing into his neck. 

“You should've seen the look on your face,” Akechi said, in between laughs and inhales. 

“Guys!” Akira was on them a second later, helping them both to their feet. “Were you trying to get yourself killed?!” 

Ryuji and Akechi shared a look that said “Which one of us is he talking too?” They both ignored him.

“We didn't die though so, focus on the big picture babe,” he said and Akira looked at him like he wanted to strangle him. It was a cute look. Akira moved Akechi to lean on his shoulder where he collapsed completely once Akira had a proper hold on him. 

“My cognitives a shit shot,” he mumbled and Akira couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of him. Ryuji joined him because holy shit,  _ this  _ is what Goro Akechi jokes are. Akira meets his eyes above Akechi’s head. He throws him a smile, full of sunsets and love, eyes full of silent thanks and adoration. Ryuji winks at him and Akira rolls his eyes. He looks at Akechi, who is teetering on passing out and fighting for awareness. Ryuji is in awe at his sheer strength. 

For the first time, Ryuji truly sees Akechi. For real this time. Though he might not know him as well as Akira. He knows him better than most and as they help him out of the palace, they hold him up with interlocked hands on his back. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Epilogue

December 24, 20XX

They stood at each side of Akira. Ryuji on his left and Akechi on his right. Taking and delivering blow after punishing blow. Over the wind and increasing chants of the crowd below them he would hear Akechi laughing, free and wild, he couldn’t help but laugh too. 

Akira and Akechi stood together as the massive persona raised its gun in tandem with Akira’s own. It was a breathtaking sight, seeing a god tremble at Akira’s sheer power. He nearly jumped when he felt Akira’s free hand grab his own, he laced their fingers like they always did. Naturally, as if they belonged in Ryuji’s own. 

Next to him Akechi raised his own hand, placing it directly on top of Akira’s, index fingers laying on top of each other on the trigger. Eyes blazing and hair whipping around his face. Distantly, he realized Akechi no longer had his mask on. 

“Begone.”

Ryuji heard Akechi laugh and the booming sound of the bullet. 

In the glistening gold of victory, Akira Kurusu looked beautiful. 

Covered in the shimmering air of freedom, Goro Akechi did too. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Ahaha it’s me. what’s up. this is like my longest fic, it wasn’t supposed to get this long. idk why it got this long. I’ve had this idea for a while and it’s based completely off my play through of p5 which is me basically being absolutely in love with both ryuji and akechi and dealing with that.  
> It’s my first Akira/Ryuji fic which is nuts considering how much i fucking adore them and their dynamic. Ryuji is the best and i LOVE HIM AND AKIRA LOVES HIM. At first this fic was gonna be a lot more angsty and more betraying and jealousy focused but nah. Because as much as i love the dynamic between both relationships, i LOVE the dynamic that’s possible between ryuji and akechi.  
> This is furthering my goro and ryuji friendship agenda, that’s it that’s all that’s the fic. 
> 
> Goro is just like them, with the horrible adults in his life and his rebellion, but he varies in the fact that he’s completely alone. Shaped only by the vision of his revenge, of his justice which to him can only be accomplished alone because that’s all he’s ever known. Which is completely opposite to Akira’s story, whos supposed to make bonds, its what makes him stronger, as a leader and person. Akechi never has that, and i never liked how they just have ryuji hate on Akechi the entire way through. 
> 
> So i wanted to write that, where for a bit, Ryuji and akechi have the possibility to be genuine friends, or at least something close to it, while also dealing with the fact that ryuji and akira are together and akechi totally isn’t in love with akira. Also i just wanted to write ryuji dealing with the fact that fate tied akira and akechi together in ways he will never be. Akira and Akechi are two sides of the same coin, each other’s equals in so many ways.
> 
> Ryuji is Akira’s strength, his power, the unyielding confidence akira needs to get through all the shit he’s put through. Writing ryuji coming to terms that he doesn’t need to be akechi to be loved by akira was jus u know, :,). 
> 
> This is my ryuji/goro boyfriends agenda actually lmao. 
> 
> Akira has two hands guys. hope u enjoyed ! yell at me on twitter lol   
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Zoldyke_)


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